Chapter Three - Above and Beyond

The journey in the dark had been nothing short of a living nightmare for the gnomes. Their ability to see in the dark was not good and they had seldom ventured out of their trees and houses at night, even within the confines of their own land. Many times the group had come to a halt while a trailing member was allowed to catch up. Several times gnomes had lost their footing and slid down the sharp jagged sides of the path.

Panic stricken shrieks had filled the surrounding hills as the others frantically tried to rescue them. Through all of this Gawain glowered and simmered, knowing the noise was inviting death on them all. The gnomes just didn’t seem to understand the need for stealth, yet they were so particular about it in their own world. Each time they had halted Fulgar had turned to him, not needing to use verbal commands. It was an unspoken understanding between them that no other member of the party should be told what had happened to the balance of power.

There were going to be times when Fulgar would need them to think that Gawain was still his own man, especially when it came to dealing with the guides or any fighting. If it all went wrong, there was little point in being responsible for it if someone else could take the blame.

Gawain tried to steady himself in the darkness, slowly and carefully making his way down the steep bank to the sound of the gnome who was stuck between 2 rocks. The last thing he needed was to lose his footing and slide down into the same predicament, or even worse all the way to the valley path. Surely the barbarians had scouts and pickets out looking for ambush? When would they attack?

Finally he reached the hapless gnome who whimpered his thanks as Gawain took his hand and pulled him quite firmly from the rocks. With little ceremony and a grunt to acknowledge the gratitude, he herded the small figure back up the still wet rock to the path.

‘Lets move’ Said Gawain just loud enough for the lead horse and attendant to hear. He let the rest of the column file past him, checking everyone had heard and making a point of not looking at Fulgar as he trudged by. How easy it would be to let him slip over the edge. He banished the thought immediately and wrapped his cape and blanket round him, awaiting the next crisis.

Twice more they halted, the last one for nearly an hour and by the time they had retrieved a horse that had slipped and lost it’s boxes and bags, something appeared that they hadn’t seen in four days.

Light started to glimmer on the eastern horizon, the wind dropped to barely a whisper and as the sky began to brighten the true scale of what they had been walking on became clear.

Even Gawain was surprised at how much progress they had made and stood looking in the pre dawn twilight at the drop to their left which fell at least a thousand feet to a rocky stream.

Had anyone of them known what lay below them, it was likely that death threat or not, they would still be at their camp. Yet they had made it and ahead of them, the day looked to be brightening up as they at last reached the edge of the hill which had turned out to be more of a small mountain range. Their path descended onto even ground and by sunrise they were safely out of the stone and hard paths onto footing more suitable to gnomes humans and horses. As one they stopped and stared eastward as the upper lip of the sun appeared on the horizon. It blazed it’s way into the sky, filling the deep blue overhead and even at this hour bringing a warmth to bones that could barely remember what it was like to be dry.

Gawain scanned the horizon in all directions. Behind him, the tall peaks were shadowing the lands in their lee but ahead the way was clear.

Not the best of situations when you want to be hidden

‘Sir Gawain’ Called Fulgar ‘The river is about a days march ahead, I want to reach the shelter of the woods near it by nightfall’

‘Your point being?’ Asked the knight

Fulgar paused for a second to collect himself.

‘So we should press on until then and rest when we get there. We will need to make good time across this plain while it’s early’

‘So if we stand here talking about it how much longer will it take us?’

Just because he had taken an oath of allegiance, the gnome needn’t think he had a servant as well, it was the gnomes that had caused all the hold ups so far anyway.

Fulgar marched to the head of the column, took the reins of the lead horse and set off at a brisk pace. Gawain couldn’t help smiling and made a bet with himself as to how long the gnome would keep it up.

Mid day and the pace showed no sign of slacking, Fulgar barely said a word and the others, sensing the tension between them and wanting to put as much distance between themselves and the barbarians as they could, did their best to keep up silently.

Gawain had to admit that Fulgar had done well, they had covered many leagues and the warm sun felt good as well as helping to dry out their equipment. He still chaffed at the exposure but could find no fault with the tactics. The lack of wildlife in this area was also puzzling, maybe the army that had passed this way had driven most of the animals into hiding. It was just something else to consider and keep in mind.

Staying at the back of the line, Gawain turned every hundred or so steps and surveyed their rear area, searching out anything that may be following but as with the way ahead, it was clear and silent.

Too clear and silent.

There was that feeling again. He turned to the front and saw ahead the dim dark line of what must be a wood or forest and beyond that, the distant peaks of the snow capped mountains they must cross to finally reach the hidden forest. How had the gnomes managed to find a Tree Spirit out here? It was obviously something the other Tree Spirits had told them of. The gnomes could not have ventured this far into the wild lands. Could they?

The next two hours passed and even his feet were beginning to drag a little. Still Fulgar showed no let up in the pace and kept turning to make sure they were all still together. In the middle, the two gnomes who were guarding their treasure chest looked to be wilting. The sun was welcome but wearying and the horses seemed to register their annoyance by flicking their ears and looking around a lot more.

Or were they uneasy about something as well?

Fulgar suddenly looked back and waved Gawain forward. The knight slowly quickened his own pace, only pride preventing him from breaking into a run.

‘The forest is up ahead, another hour at this pace and we will be there’ Said Fulgar who seemed to have taken to leadership. Again, Gawain tried not to be impressed with how Fulgar was working out.

‘Not too soon either. I don’t like being exposed like this and there is no defensive position to be seen anywhere. I don’t know about you, but the horses look uneasy.’

Fulgar glanced at his own and then down the column.

‘They look alright. What’s the matter Sir Knight, is the pace getting to you?’ Gawain flushed to the ears but held his temper and smiled icily.

‘Perhaps you would like me to take the lead?’ He offered. Fulgar wasn’t to be deflected.

‘No, you bring up the rear, I’ll keep the pace. Gnomes know each other better and I can judge their fatigue. Just keep a watch on that sky as well. It’s good to see the sun but there are other things that inhabit the big blue that we don’t want to see.’ ‘Really? Good job we have such an experienced ranger as you with us then, doubt any of us had thought of that’ Snapped Gawain and strode off to the back of the line. None of the guides or gnomes dared to look his way.

As the sun began to sink in the west the forest, which had seemed to never get any closer, was suddenly there in front of them, maybe a half league.

The trees were not too dense and it looked like an ideal place to rest up and eat. Also, the dead wood should have dried out some so a fire, concealed the way the Legends did it, wouldn’t be too much of a problem. The pace hadn’t slackened all day and Fulgar was obviously going to keep it up until they were safely in the woods. It was now that things could get dangerous.

As they neared their objective, the group started to chat, heads came up and turned to each other. Attention wandered with fatigue. Gawain scowled at them and kept up his routine of turning back every one hundred paces. His horse reared it’s head and whinnied in alarm, the others picked up on it and also turned to look.

Gawain saw it first, a grey mass some way behind them but low and moving right at them, fast. Without thinking he turned to the column and shouted; ‘Run!’

They didn’t need telling twice. Fulgar again showed his calmness under pressure and shouted to the Gnomes to mount the horses. If there was one thing you could always rely on, a horse would run in the right direction when danger threatened. The gnomes leapt up with the help of the guides who mounted first and they galloped off towards the trees barely five hundred yards ahead. Gawain drew his dark sword, made of the same hard scale as his axe and threw himself into the saddle. His horse had no thoughts of running away but turned and awaited his masters instructions. From this vantage point Gawain had a clearer view of the situation. It wasn’t possible yet to see exactly what was racing towards them but travelling that fast it had to be something on four legs. He quickly looked over his shoulder and saw the horses with the Gnomes and guides racing towards the trees. Well at least they would reach shelter and knowing gnomes, nothing would find them in there.

Ahead of him the mass was slowly taking shape and as it raced at him he cursed and threw his shield to the ground. There wasn’t time to stow it properly as he reached into the side bag and drew out the thin orange fire shield. This was all he needed, on his own, out in the open.

The horse reared up and nearly threw him. Terrified by the scent it caught, it drew itself around to flee and Gawain could not blame his trusted steed. Horses had an instinctive terror of dragons and with good reason. Their meat was prized by these fire breathing monsters and they gorged themselves on horses while keeping them alive so the blood was warm as they bit deep into the rich dark meat.

Gawain was able to make out the slim dark outline of the red dragon as it flew mere inches above the ground, the grey being the dust it blew up from it’s massive outstretched wings. There was only one way to fight this and it wasn’t on horseback. He lowered the visor on his helm and dropped out of the saddle. The side of his sword spanked the horse’s sweaty flank and it sped off out of his sight just as the dragon drew in a deep breath and opened it’s mouth wide to attack.

Gawain still didn’t know which of them it was going for and that was kind of important. No doubt, the dragon on seeing the horse would have had the same decision but it’s eyes, glowing evilly in the now dimming light were set completely on the knight in it’s path. Gawain braced himself and held the shield up to cover his main body, peering over the rim at the mouth of dagger like teeth. The timing of the attack was crucial. Duck down too soon and the dragon had time to rise and dive from above. Leave it too late and the heat blast would melt the skin of his face to the inside of the helm.

There was a long hiss and Gawain gripped the shield and sword tightly. The wings beat up and down and the haze around the fangs turned a bright orange. Gawain ducked as the heat flash seared overhead. Even with the shield the flames managed to penetrate to his arm but the burn was minor. Next, the dragon charged at full tilt at the shield, plunging it’s fangs deep into the hide as it hit Gawain, driving him backwards and over onto his back.

The shield had once again saved him. There was a huge pile of dust and legs and claws as man and dragon were locked in a tumble. They both rolled over and under each other, one snarling and hissing, the other trying to keep a grip on the shield and now more importantly, the sword. The dragon’s fire had not lasted long, Gawain realised that it was still fairly young and as such could only blast for short periods. It also showed its lack of experience by hitting the man head on. It now had a shield jammed in it’s front fangs and as they rolled to a halt, Gawain managed to wedge it just a little more securely.

The dragon flung itself madly around and took a vicious swing with it’s tail that went high. It’s wings were also a major problem and one caught the Knight a heavy blow on the back of his plate armour, winding him. He staggered forward, knowing time wasn’t on his side. The light razor sharp sword flashed down and cut deep into the wing, slicing it neatly so that an entire section floated to the ground.

The dragon howled in agony and rage and used the side of it’s head to batter Gawain to his knees. There was a loud crack as the shield in it’s jaws suddenly snapped in two. The pieces went everywhere and left the fangs free to sink into the man. No armour ever invented could withstand a dragon bite and if the actual trauma of the wound didn’t kill him, the poison definitely would, in seconds.

The massive head lunged at him and tried to blast but there was no vapour left. Venom flew off the teeth and Gawain had to break backwards to avoid getting any on his armour. The head glared malevolently at him and drew itself back for another lunge. This was it’s fatal mistake. Gawain had faced too many dragons to know there was one sure way to get killed and that was to await the attack.

Quicker than the eye could see, his sword flashed upwards and drove full into the body. The curved shape of the blade was designed to be quickly extracted which Gawain did. He lunged a second time before the dragon could recover, and this time the blade found it’s mark, piercing the heart and rupturing it. The dragon screamed a death cry and fell lifeless to the ground.

It’s blood seeped onto the grass, burning it and leaving black marks forever where it ran. No grass would ever grow here again and passers by would know why.

Gawain staggered forward and drew his sword high, bringing it down with all his strength into the neck. The severed head rolled to one side, the eyes lifeless and extinguished gazed into infinity. It was the only way to make absolutely sure the dragon was dead. Some had been known to have more than one heart and suddenly spring up back to life.

By sunrise tomorrow the carcass would have melted away and all that would remain of the duel would be the burned and blackened grass.

He let out a long stream of breath and checked his armour. Bent in places and scorched, it was mostly bruises and cuts but none near any dragon poison. He wiped the blade of his sword on the carcass and turned to check around him. Where there was one dragon there could be more. Unlikely and especially not in daylight but there were good reasons for checking and it was getting dark. Plus he no longer had a fire shield. Great.

There was no sign of the others and having scanned the horizon he whistled loud and clear. From within the trees he saw his horse emerge and gallop madly towards him, head raised in joy and relief. Gawain smiled and stroked the flanks as he mounted and turned towards the forest.

The smile died on his face as he took one last look behind. The baying of the mountain wolves was unmistakeable. A pack, several hundred strong appeared from the east, making for the forest.

What is it with this place?

The horse had no problems with the wolves and turned expecting the order to charge, but it didn’t come. Gawain watched as the wolves changed direction and instead of attacking him, turned towards the trees. This was not a smart thing to do either. Their thick fur was designed for the chill of the snows and wind in the high passes. The thickets and brambles under the trees would make for difficult conditions, plus to have a real advantage against a gnome, you had to be able to see them. Trees was one place you never took on gnomes.

Even before they reached the edge of the trees, arrows whistled out and several of the pack fell motionless. But there was something not right about this. The wolves made no effort to either move into the trees nor attack the man and horse. They moved out of bowshot and stood their ground some way off.

A containment exercise. Thought Gawain. They don’t want us to come out of the forest and they don’t want to come and get us. Well, there was no sense in doing things their way. He spurred the horse and turned to attack. It was as the horse reached full speed that he realised his normal shield lay in the grass and was getting further away all the time. Well, there was nothing for it but to trust luck and surprise.

The wolves turned as one to meet him, but the sight and smell of the dead dragon, the sword flashing and the massive horse bearing down on them was enough to break their resolve. They turned and fled, panic stricken in all directions. Some were unlucky enough to run into bowshot range of the forest and paid the price. The rest scattered wide and ran low and fast away from danger.

Again Thought Gawain, Our whereabouts will be known and the fate of the dragon will be something else we have to contend with.

He brought his horse to a halt and turned back for his shield, keeping a close eye on the wolves who were maintaining a safe distance but obviously tracking them. The smell from the dead dragon was enough to wilt the leaves from trees and he quickly led his horse under the canopy and relative safety.

The gnomes appeared as if from nowhere, still holding their bows, more to show him they had scored some kills as anything but he was happy with that. They had witnessed the dragon attack and it had boosted their morale greatly to see the beast die. They had suffered cruelly from dragons who let their babies run into the forests to hunt them down. Fulgar was red faced and still running on battle fever as he came out of a tree and stood looking up at the knight and horse.

‘That was well done Sir Gawain’ He said and bowed. It was the first time he had called Gawain by his full title but it was no longer his title. He was too tired to care, the day’s march and fighting had fatigued him and the wolves were still out there.

‘The river is just ahead’ Said one of the guides ‘ I’ve scouted out the area and the crossing is deserted. We will be able to reach the other side without any problems.’

‘Oh you think so?’ Asked Gawain, ‘And has it not occurred to you that two hundred wolves sit on our rear for a reason and don’t attack?’

‘They don’t like the forest’ Offered the guide weakly.

‘There’s two hundred of them you idiot! Do you think they are sat out there because they are scared of eight gnomes and three humans?’

‘We will survey the crossing ourselves’ Said Fulgar and signalled two of the gnomes who vanished without a trace into the wood.

‘In the meantime, we will form a defensive circle in the trees. That’s our safest bet for tonight. Can you get some food ready?’

Gawain bristled at that. He cooked for no one but himself.

Fulgar stared at him and awaited his reply. ‘You make sure the river is clear and the boys and I will get some water and kindling’ Said the once proud knight. It was as much as he was prepared to concede and not wanting to make an issue with a dragon slayer in front of the other gnomes, Fulgar nodded his assent.

The horses were tethered to the thick trunks of the surrounding trees while two gnomes went to watch the edge of the forest and track the wolves who stayed safely back but showed no sign of moving off. Gawain loosened off his armour and made some hasty repairs to the damage which was more than he had realised. His breathing was coming in sharp gasps and his chest had started to burn as the muscles tightened and the bruising started to come out. It was all in a days work.

The light in the forest was fading rapidly when the gnome scouts returned to announce the same as the human guides. The crossing was completely deserted and there was no trace of life anywhere along the riverbank.

Gawain took this with a huge pinch of salt and insisted on taking his sword as well as the water skins and led the nervous boys into the trees. They heard the river before they saw it and all of them instinctively crouched and listened. Gawain didn’t doubt for a second that their every move was being watched by a gnome but that was fine. An arrow from within the trees aimed at his enemy by a gnome was one less enemy he had to worry about. From what Gawain could hear, it sounded like the river was in full flow, shallow and passing over rocks like a set of rapids. Well that made sense, it was a crossing after all.

Slowly he crept forward, signalling the other two to stay hidden and carefully, studying the branches in front of him for traps, emerged by the river bank but within the shade of the trees.

It was indeed a wide river, in fact it was wider than any in the civilised parts of Runescape and looked as if it had been in flood earlier. The level was high for a crossing but must have gone down over the last twelve hours. For some reason that troubled him. Again that feeling was there and he forced it away. There were far more important matters such as the likelihood of more combat. In the failing light he could barely make out the far bank which meant that anyone on the far bank could barely make him out as well so that was all square. The crouching was causing his chest to hurt again and he was forced to move to avoid cramp.

As he edged to the water which gurgled noisily past, his eyes flittered from side to side. Again, the noise masked his movements but it also masked that of an enemy. He stared hard into the gloom up and down the river bank before making his way back to the two boys waiting for him. They followed his lead out into the open and one at a time filled the skins and carriers, all the while expecting an ambush. It seemed to take ages but finally they were all full and weighed down with their water, walked slowly in the near pitch dark, to the camp.

True to their word, the gnomes had made a defensive perimeter in the trees and it looked to Gawain like the best they could hope for under the circumstances. Water was poured into pans and the guides set about lighting small fires in dug out u shaped holes in the soil. This masked the fire but let the heat out to cook, the smoke was something they would just have to risk. The horses snorted and stamped behind him as Gawain, feeling like a slave, worked over the fires and made sure the flames didn’t appear out either end of the holes. The munching from the nosebags was satisfying, a sound of normality and the horses tired as anyone else after the days forced march, settled down for the night. Gawain always spared the time to see his horse cared for before returning to the food. He used the last of his own store of dried meats and picked some wild herbs to flavour it all up and within the hour had a tasty stew served up, piping hot and much welcome after three days of hard rations.

The Gnomes ate quietly, too tired to complain about the lack of vegetation in the meal and soon retired after eating to their platforms to sleep.

Fulgar came close in the dark and whispered with Gawain as he cleared away the pots and utensils.

‘I’ll take the first watch, you can stand second. Wake up one of the guides who can relieve you until sunrise’

‘Why don’t the other gnomes take a turn?’

‘Because I have said how it’s going to be and we are watching the wolves. They haven’t gone away so we need to be on our guard but I doubt they will come in here’ replied Fulgar with no trace of the respect he had shown earlier.

Gawain climbed up with some difficulty onto the platform and laid down listening to the sounds of a forest at night. His side was still painful and his chest was uncomfortable to lie on and it was some time before he found a spot where nothing actually hurt. He was soon asleep and dreaming of rivers and tall ships with skeletons crewing them. Dreams always came after battle and he let them come. They were better than some he could remember.

For the second night in succession, Gawain awoke to the shape of Fulgar close by only this time he was expecting it. The Gnome sensibly stayed out of reach, knowing full well his proximity would be enough to rouse the knight who slept on a hair pin trigger anyway at times like these.

Wordlessly and barely visible in the dark trees, Gawain slowly made his way to the side facing the river and scanned the pitch black to get tuned in to the area and what was where. He was vaguely aware of the still shapes of sleeping members of the group but could see nothing of the Gnomes watching the forest edge. A slight breeze rustled the leaves in the higher branches and below him the darkness and silence was total. That was to be expected. Humans and wolves in the same area were bad news for most forest creatures.

He drew his cape over his head and sat down against the thick trunk of the tree, making sure that his outline was completely broken up by the hood and the folds in the material. No natural shape was the same as a human so any spies would quickly pick out his form unless he disguised it.

A slow movement to his right caught his eye, measured and even. That made it a possible threat and he braced himself with his dagger drawn under the cape. His grip relaxed slightly as the familiar shape of a gnome appeared almost touching him.

How do they do that?

The gnome was trying to say something but his accent and soft voice made it impossible to understand. He remained motionless so the gnome had to move in almost to his ear, not something he was keen on and studied hard as the words were repeated. ‘The wolves have moved off. They just headed away back towards the mountains’ This was not good news. A pack of wolves on the edge of a forest was a threat, a pack of wolves that could not be seen was a bigger threat. More importantly, why had they just moved off like that? Only two reasons came to mind and neither of them were comforting. He leaned forward slightly and spoke slowly and as quietly as he could.

‘Wake the others and tell them to form a defensive line on me facing the river. Then just you to go back and watch the forest edge’

The gnome nodded and shimmered off into the inky blackness. There was no sound at all but Gawain knew that already arrows would be knocked on bow strings and held in readiness. He slowly dropped his cape from his shoulders and pushed the dagger back into the vambrace. His short rune sword once again came from it’s scabbard and glinted slightly. Gawain didn’t fancy doing battle up'n the trees but whatever was out there would have to climb to meet them and anything that climbed couldn’t fight at the same time. It was a small advantage but it was better than nothing.

Time passed and the silence remained. Seconds seemed to become hours as the party awaited they knew not what. Where had Fulgar got to? Surely he would need to have some say in this. When he could stand it no more, Gawain looked to his right and left and was amazed that even though it was totally dark he could actually make out the shapes of the gnome archers, crouched and ready. The guides were squatted around the tree trunk entrances to their platform and he had to admit to being impressed with they way it had all fallen into place like this.

A sudden tug on his sleeve made him spin round. Fulgar kept hold until he was convinced he wasn’t going to get the sword through his face.

‘What now?’ Whispered the Gnome

Gawain thought for a second and decided to use the Gnome’s expert knowledge before making a decision.

‘What can attack at night, in trees and cause us real problems?’

The gnome shook his head slowly.

‘Nothing. The trees are the best defence we have. Anything small and agile enough to get through our scouts wouldn’t be strong enough to be a problem’

Gawain paused as a thought suddenly struck him.

‘Unless there were thousands of them’ He hissed.

Below, the already nervous horses pulled wildly at their tethers, whinnying and stamping. It wasn’t long before the branch holding them gave way under the strain and they bolted off into the darkness.

As of in cue they all heard the sound at once. The wood suddenly filled with tiny shrieks and the fluttering of wings beating wildly. From above, below and all side the noise filled the air as they were hit by countless black flying shapes darting into their faces and clothes. Gawain cursed and flailed around trying to protect himself from the onslaught. Around him the gnomes did the same but it was no use. The bats managed to get through their clothes and arms and tiny needle like teeth sank into even the smallest piece of exposed skin.

One set of teeth on their own would be a nuisance but hundreds of them were a danger and as the gnomes and humans vainly tried to find cover, more and more bats fell on them. The air was filled with shouts and cries as one by one, they either fell off or dropped off the platforms, writhing masses of bat infested shapes crashing through the trees and bushes in all directions.

Gawain landed with a thump but his fall was cushioned by the splat of a hundred bats who had the ill luck to be attached to that side of his clothing. He realised that it was hopeless trying to beat these night hunters away and only water could save them. There was no time to check on how the others were doing, his face was covered in a mass of leathery wings and gaping little mouths tearing at the skin, claws digging in and adding to the hysteria. He had lost all sense of direction and no hope of knowing which way the river lay. For now he just had to keep fighting even though it was hopeless.

‘Get out of the forest! Get out the forest!’ He heard Fulgar shout.

‘No!’ He roared back, hoping none of them had found their way out.

‘Stay in the trees, don’t break cover.’

He had no idea if the others had heard him, his head was twisting in all ways to get away from the bats and he wondered how much longer this could last. It was obvious now why the wolves had withdrawn.

Flushing out the game eh? Make them think it was safe to race out into the grassy plains now the wolves had gone. Nice try.

Gawain’s mind was racing as he began to tire of the unrelenting attack. He was able to hear the cries of gnomes and humans which meant they were still in the trees and were still alive.

Just as he was beginning to feel overcome by the bat bites and confusion, it stopped. The bats, as one leapt from their victims and flew away as suddenly as they had come. Like the others, Gawain was flinging his arms around automatically, even though the bats had retreated, leaving him looking like an out of control windmill.

The bites on his skin throbbed and stung and in some ways was worse than a stab wound or a fall. The pain was everywhere and nowhere at the same time and he rubbed his hands all over his body, making sure he was bat free before calling out loudly to rally the scattered party. There was no need for stealth anymore, whatever was out there knew where they were.

Two dark gnome sized shapes stumbled out of the bushes next to him and looked around at the point of sheer panic. The sight of the knight, sword in hand and despite being covered in bites, looking every bit as dangerous as ever, calmed them down. Their heavy breathing settled and it was obvious that their experience had been no less traumatic than this own.

‘Fulgar! Over here!’ Shouted Gawain, making his gnomes flinch.

There was no reply and he was about to call again when the sight of two thin evil yellow eyes moved into his view. A soft hiss pierced the night, freezing the blood and paralysing the limbs of those it found here in the clearing. The eyes blinked slowly and the shape moved around them, Gawain keeping himself between the gnomes who cowered in terror, and the vampire which surveyed it’s prey with vile and malignant pleasure.

Not too far away but of no use at all to Gawain and the two gnomes, Fulgar had his own problems. The human guides had managed to find each other and were stood facing outwards, swords drawn and looking as terrified as it was possible to be. They had all felt the approach of the vampire but were lucky enough not to be in it’s sights. Yet.

The gnome ran to them and manically waved them towards the wood’s edge. As they approached the tree line they heard the unmistakeable snarl and growl of wolves which had moved in close enough to be seen. Several cries from the tree line gave away the locations of the other gnomes and some had managed to draw arrows once more and fired at the heaving mass of fur. There were a couple of whelps of pain as they found their mark but this caused more problems than it solved.

Maddened by their losses earlier and having so much meat this close, the attack by the gnomes sent the wolves into a frenzy and they leapt at the trees, trying to grab the little archers and drag them to a messy death.

The gnomes were far too quick to be caught like that and were up the trunks of the trees and firing arrows down into the pack killing several more. The humans were not so lucky and had to stand their ground, relying on their swords to keep them alive. But they were not warriors, their only experience of combat had been bears and maybe the goblins of the woods. Fighting demented wolves, in the dark with a vampire at their back was beyond their wildest fears.

They gallantly hacked and stabbed killing and wounding several of the pack, pulling back into the trees with the wolves grabbing and leaping at them. It very nearly worked and they had almost reached thick enough cover for the wolves to be unable to move properly. Their shaggy fur coats snagged on branches and brambles, which they struggled uselessly to free themselves from. One of the young guides turned to see where he was in relation to his friends and as he looked back, a mouth full of fangs leapt onto his face and tore at the flesh, sinking in deeper as it closed in on the bone beneath.

The boy screamed in agony and fell back under the weight of the attack, trying to bring his sword around and drive it into the soft fur. It was hopeless. The wolf was far too experienced to be taken that easily. It leapt up and backwards, taking the foot of it’s stunned victim and dragging the boy out of the trees.

The guide and his remaining friend yelled and leapt at the wolf but were immediately set on by others who drove them back.

Arrows whined through the air and pierced the wolf with the boy but twenty others leapt on the now lifeless body and ripped it apart. The dark mercifully spared them the grisly sight and when the screaming stopped, they knew it was all over. A rage such as he had never felt tore through the guide and his sword went straight into the neck of a wolf chieftain who had leapt at him with same tactic in mind. He was dead before he hit the ground and the wolf behind him took the blade squarely in the face as well. The boy was at the guide’s side and with the gnomes now pouring accurate fire into the ranks of wolves in front of them, they drove their attackers back and out onto the plains. The wolves broke off at the command of their leader and fled into darkness which the survivors noticed was not now as dark as it had been shortly before.

The glimmer of dawn in the east heralded the new day but the two humans wisely ran back to the trees under cover of the gnome archers for whom they now had everlasting respect.

Of course. Bats. What else would have directed all this? Get the warm blooded victims out of the trees, scatter them and pick them off one at a time.

Gawain fixed his eyes on the shape where even the darkness was swallowed, as if nature itself dared not invoke it’s own laws. The abomination of all that inhabited a world, the undead, belonging neither to this world nor the next were a figure of loathing and fear to all. This was no ordinary enemy, it used neither magic nor strength of arms to overcome it’s foe. It existed purely as an instrument of evil, shunned even by crazed followers of Zammorak, ignored by the mighty dragons of the wilderness and totally reviled by every other kind of life.

The bites on his skin burned savagely as the blood seeped through. The presence of a vampire always drew blood through any weakness in the skin, just as blood always drew vampires, as if the two were inextricably linked. He barely felt it as the dread plunged through his body and left nothing but ice in his heart.

The mouth of the vampire opened and the hiss became more of a catlike spit. The gnomes cried out and the sheer dread excited the vampire who moved in closer. Gawain could hardly move, screaming in his mind to drop the sword and draw the dagger. His hand was locked motionless and refused to move, his eyes transfixed by the stare of the yellow slits which bore through to his soul and gripped it in a death embrace.

Move! He screamed silently, Move! Nothing happened. The vampire held out it’s long pale claw like hand and the sword flew out of the stricken knight’s fingers. He stumbled back slightly as his lifeless hand felt the un dead flesh touch, sending blistering rivers of agony through his veins. The very blood in his body seemed to be on fire and he realised that of all the dangers and battles he had faced in his life, this was finally going to be the death, or worse, of him.

His body began to fold as he bent forward and the vampire tightened it’s grip on his arm, pulling the succumbed human closer to deliver it’s fangs into his neck.

Move! The voice in his head shrieked one last futile time. It was hopeless.

As he was dragged into the embrace of the vampire which was totally focused on it’s victim, blind to all outside events there was a glint of silver which caught it’s eye from the chest of the knight. The amulet, freed from the armour that held it inside the plated rune dangled and twisted on it’s chain. As if knowing the peril of it’s owner, it swung towards the undead monster and for the briefest of moments, touched the skin.

The vampire screeched a blood freezing curse and fell back, loosening it’s grip on the human who sank to his knees, momentarily still numbed by the fire in his blood.

The star of Saradomin shone out brightly, it’s blessed power matching and surpassing the horror of the vampire as it challenged it’s enemy and defeated the curse of evil on it’s wearer.

Gawain snapped back to life, the dragon dagger was in his hand and the glowing venom of the tip flashed as he drove it straight into the lifeless heart of his attacker.

The vampire let out a scream that was probably heard in Karamja, causing all those in the wood to freeze to the spot and cover their ears, cowering where they stood. It staggered back and the dagger, it’s life force spent and poison dissipated, melted to nothing. The undead spirit that possessed the vampire was sent to it’s final rest and the body released, fell to the ground where it crumbled into dust and the nothingness of oblivion.

Finally free of it’s power, Gawain fell to his knees, kissed the amulet and whispered a silent prayer of thanks to his god. Never in all his years had he faced a full vampire, having sorted out the minor problem in Draynor many years previously but that was hardly a vampire and compared to this, not even worth a mention.

The gnomes shouted with relief and delight. Twice now they had witnessed his strength and courage and it was unlikely they would ever see any bad in him.

One of the guides rushed into their clearing, his own short sword drawn and glowing with blood. Obviously there had action elsewhere this night. He surveyed the scene and the small pile of dust where the vampire had stood and shrank back.

‘Where are the others?’ Asked Gawain.

The question caught the boy who jumped slightly before he answered.

‘Fulgar is near the tree line, he sent me to see what was happening’ He hesitated before continuing. ‘ Hammand is dead, the wolves got him’ He stammered and as the rush of battle ebbed from his body, the shock set in. He broke and started to cry, his shoulders heaving as the spasms of grief overtook him.

Gawain let out a deep sigh and held the boy close until the shoulders stopped moving and led him out of the clearing to Fulgar and the others.

Dawn came and the carnage of the night became clear. Bodies of wolves lay everywhere, maybe fifty or more in and around the trees. The gnomes retrieved what arrows they could and repaired some that just needed new flights. All of them were covered in bites, scratches and wounds. With the exception of Gawain it amazed them, how much injury they had sustained and not even noticed until the action and confusion had died.

Gawain took charge without the slightest protest from Fulgar who still looked to be in shock. The loss of Hammand had affected Fulgar more than he realised. Maybe it had been the fact he had seen it and fired his remaining arrows at the wolves who were on the boy and then having to watch helplessly.

The knight sent the guide and two gnomes to the river to fetch more water to bathe their wounds and sent the rest of them to collect marrentill from the surrounding bushes. On his own at last, he sat back against a tree and in the gathering light, laid his head on his drawn up knees and closed his eyes, trying to purge the horror of the vampire from his heart. It would take more than closing his eyes to do that.