Solomon had departed my company, and my mood had fallen from delighted to foul. I had spent some
time searching for him, but he had vanished sometime between us climbing the first ledge leading
upwards, and being set upon by more of his distant relatives.
The stone-spitting monsters here seemed eager, almost arrogant without Solomon nearby to dissuade
their attacks or tell them that I am a friend. They scrambled from small caves in the stone of the cliffs
that rose above me on both sides, and harassed as they had on the beaches before, only with stones far
harder and sharper.
They, however, were not the creatures that had grabbed my greatest attention, being more of an
irritation as I dispatched them. Instead, I had turned focus towards the strange, mythical beasts come
directly from legends that I had read as a child. Hellions.
I was beset by them only when silence descended on my climb through the switchbacks that wound
upwards through the clouds, and the spitters had offered respite in the form of a tactical retreat. The
Hellions carried with them no sound, and the stillness, eerie and ominous remained unbroken until just
before they struck.
A foul roar and the kiss of hot breath upon my cheek greeted me as I turned, startled by the sound, and
pulled my blade up defensively. I was struck almost instantly by mangled, furry paws and snarling teeth
that wrapped around the sword as though intent on breaking it in two. The steel, however, resisted,
valiant and bright in this dark place. I stumbled backwards and twisted the blade sharply to the side,
pulling at the hilt and gashing the creature’s mouth in a spray of blood.
The demonic animal hissed and drooled and snarled at me, a hint of intelligence behind its angry eyes. It
unnerved me only slightly less than the other four just like it now stalking slowly towards me, footfalls
muted on the rocky floor, leaving only our breathing to fill the soundless stalemate.
I broke the silence with a frustrated, angry yell, and the Hellions, hideous creatures lost somewhere
between lion and wolf, startled when I charged. The first was dispatched in a single blow. It was the one
who had attacked me only moments ago, and with my breathing tempered, the moment in which it had
been stunned by surprise at the ferocity of my charge was all I needed. A low sweep of my weapon
caught the creature beneath its jaw, and it met with a death fitting for its wretched existence here on
Wraeclast.
The other four were fast. I had not expected their retaliation to be so swift, and they pounced without
hesitating, four large, brownish bodies and tangled orange manes moved with precision and practice to
attempt to surround and down me. Fortunately, I was ready this time. The closest to me by the thinness
of a hair was struck soundly on the skull by the hilt of my sword, having not wasted time committing to a
swing I was just in time to turn and kick a second one as it lunged at me, sending it yelping and tumbling
across the ground. My back turned, on the other two, I knew they would strike again, and with a foot set
firmly on the dusty ground, I brought my sword arm around in a large sweep, the blade hungry and red,
like the eyes of some demon wrought with thoughts of death. There was a loud, unhappy cry, and a
headless corpse struck me, having no time to dodge.
Its weight was incredible. They were large creatures, but I had not been expecting the Hellion’s
momentum to carry so well, and I was struck, thrown off balance and forced to stumble backward
towards where another of the hellish dogs was waiting. The fearsome smile of teeth that had all but
expected this bit down firmly into my leg, finding purchase even through the leathers there and the
awful din of a scream roared out, that only later did I realize had come from me. With equal parts rage
and fear I twisted my body and sunk my weapon deep into the creature’s skull, panting and seething at
these demons that had the audacity to draw blood. The Hellion attached to my leg came loose almost
instantly, but I was given no respite. I shook my leg just once to dislodge the beast in the moments
before the last two came at me from different sides.
I tumbled away, though it was a clumsy tumble and I left blood in my wake. The two beasts, snarling and
barking out curses and sounds that belonged to the things that occupied Hell, collided with each other,
but regained their composure quickly and focused again on the trail of blood trickling down my leg and
across the dusty, scuffed ground. They looked for a moment at one another, as though two humans
agreeing on a plan of attack, and split to each side, keen on flanking me. I would have none of that, and
followed the one on my left as it darted, rushing with it and towards it to remove any advantage it might
have had over me, leaving my back open to the other. Each step I took sent wild bites of pain shooting
up my leg, but there was no giving in. Not yet. Death and I were not yet destined for an eternal talk.
The flank broken, and the Hellion I had not given pursuit to having to change direction abruptly, allowed
me the opening I needed. I lunged at the creature, stabbing strongly towards the center of its mass, but
it leaped with frightening speed to the side and doubled back, bounding once, to the left, to avoid, and a
second time to strike at my exposed side. I was prepared, and drew my left arm up, catching the
creature square in the jaw with a firm upper-cut, and was rewarded by the loud crack of teeth striking
loudly against teeth. This time, I was also prepared for the momentum of the body, and steeled myself,
firmly planted feet unwavering despite their injury. The creature fell at my feet, and while scrambling to
recover itself, was dispatched with a single thrust.
The fourth had stopped to watch, and now sat, ungainly, lank and looking far less menacing than he had
with his brothers just moments ago. If the creature had been a human, and it most certainly was not, I
would have been sure it was considering something, the way the muscles in its snarling face were
twisted. Finally, after a long pause, the creature turned and ran away. The familiar feeling of relaxation
washed over me now that my battle was done, and quite suddenly, all of it was replaced with dread.
I heard a bleating sound behind me that for the first time since the Hillock’s death, prompted me to
whisper under my breath, “Goddess Praealla, watch over me,” and I masked my pain as I turned with a
deep, steadying exhale.
There was but one. This was why the Hellion had fled.
The first thing I saw on the creature’s face was sadness, etched into every disastrous line and twisted
wrinkle there. I was reminded of the Satyrs from stories I had been told; this was most certainly some
similar creature, or perhaps the inspiration for the tales itself. Half man, half goat, terrifying, and sad. I
clenched my fingers around the hilt of my weapon, and did not make any sudden moves.
“Hello…?” I asked hesitantly of the large, unmoving thing now staring at me intently. The long, empty
pause between us had made me uncomfortable, and it was almost a full head taller than I was. Its
breathing was heavy and labored, but it did not respond.
“Can… can I help you at all? Can you even understand me?” I said to it, but the stillness gave no token. It
did not move at all save the slow rising and falling of its chest while it examined me, and I squinted at it
uncertainly.
“I am going to leave now.” I said as though I might be bargaining with it. Eyes set into the side of its
goat-like head watched me. Small, black, beady, and sad. When I made to move, it bleated at me, and I
froze.
“I… am… The Fawn…” it said in broken, hesitant common tongue.
I waited, and watched, though my grip on the weapon in my right hand loosened ever so slightly at
hearing a voice, using words I could comprehend.
“Care…,” it said, finally gesturing towards a small cave carved into the stone that somehow I had missed
before. The Fawn’s movements were slow, patient, and thoughtful. “for… your wounds.”
It seemed like an offering, and I was not about to turn down any offerings from something that could
likely crush me with little difficulty given the pain surging through my leg. Instead, I looked at the
creature that called itself The Fawn, and back to the cave, before limping slowly towards where he had
pointed.
With the goat-man following, his heavy footsteps kicking up dust and dirt as he walked, I entered the
cavern to find it well-lit, and decorated. A carpet likely wrought from the hands of some forgotten
master, ornate and decorative. The walls carried torches, and drawings, most likely those of The Fawn’s,
etched into the stone by tools scattered on the floor, chisels and broken blades alike.
The walls had been eroded in a chamber a dozen or so meters in, to provide a sitting place, makeshift
though it was, and the beast behind me said simply, “Sit.”, and pointed, when I looked back to him
uncertainly. I did as I was told.
He knelt in front of me, three powerful, strong fingers tore away the cloth around my wound, each like
the trunk of a small, sturdy tree, tipped with claws that had been cared for and honed into points. His
movements were deft and practiced, his dexterity inspiring and unreal for the monster that he was.
I felt as though I might be betraying some confidence when I spoke again.
“Who… what are you, exactly?” I asked of him, and before he could answer, “And why are you helping
me?” His response was the dark shadows that flickered and danced a macabre dance in the ominous,
homely warmth of the cavern. He said nothing, and stood, walking away from me and towards a large,
wooden chest that must have been one of the many that had washed ashore with shipwreck after
shipwreck on this island’s edges.
His lack of response was making me nervous, and frustrated, but I knew these feelings were immature
and unreasonable. He was helping and this was his home. I had no right to question him.
“I’m sorry.” I said to The Fawn, and sighed apologetically. “I am nobody to question your hospitality, I
just.. this island, and all of it, it—“
“Your friend asked.” He said, his voice still deep and powerful despite the language clearly being hard to
craft in his throat.
I should have been excited, or thrilled, but my head was still spinning, and the only word I found was a
questioning, “Solomon?”, and the goat-man nodded.
There was a clicking sound from somewhere else in the cavern, and my eyes began to water. I was
uncertain as to why until it was too late, and I was sniffling and quiet, happy teardrops trickled down my
face. The small, heavy-shelled crab came scampering out of the darkness, his shell now matching the
color of the stones in this cave and that had been all around me for my ascent. He came to rest near my
uninjured foot, while The Fawn applied a strange, stinging green salve to the bite wound on my leg.
I was startled when he spoke again; silence had taken the chamber for what seemed forever, while I
cleared my cheeks and eyes of salty tears. I was still overwhelmed by the reunion with my companion
whom I thought lost to a whim, and it was an unexpected voice.
“Solomon. Asked… me to… find you. Protect.” He said, now wrapping a clean cloth around where the
salve had been set. I could feel it burning against my skin and wondered for a moment if this treatment
might have been unsafe for use on human flesh.
“Thank you.” I replied without any hesitation this time, and looked directly at The Fawn. He seemed to
acknowledge me with his small eyes, but while mine held respect and slight fear, still, his face spoke only
sad things, of missing pieces that had been taken from him. He looked lost.
“You… may rest.” He said slowly. “But only… for short time…” The beast rose back to his full height, and
moved away from me then, taking a seat against the far wall across from me, lifting a chunk of
driftwood up, and making use of the tools around him to carve it.
He only spoke once more, to say, “If… we meet… again…” and let out a heavy breath. “I kill you.
Humans… we do not like…” and then he paused, as if to think. “Solomon… good friend. Treat well.”
I did not know quite what he meant by that, and rolled it over in my head as I limped out of the cavern
without escort. Solomon was a good friend. To me, or to him? Maybe this little shelled crab I had found
was more than he seemed to be, after all.
With fresh new questions pooling and marinating in my head, it was only the Skeletons that harassed
me the rest of my climb upwards, and sorties of the boned ones were small and infrequent enough I
could handle them on my injured leg.
In climbing, several times, I had sworn I’d seen a building of old, black stone and windows with iron bars,
but now I was certain of it, and it brought me great relief. When I broke around a bend in the trail,
shaking my head in amusement at Solomon’s antics, there it stood not twenty meters ahead, a
shattered wall that gave entrance to a great prison hidden in the mountains.
Beyond the prison, Tarkleigh said. Beyond the prison, and down the other side of the mountain, towards
the jungles. If you seek answers, that is where they will be.
Solomon and I pressed on into the yawning entrance of the prisons.
--Senophostria.