The Howling Wind of Spindleskog 2 – by Akandriel – narrated by Asclepius
Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with the continuation of this fantastic story from Akandriel, entitled
The howling wind of spindleskog
Background music by Smartsound
As darkness arrived Twistar prepared his party with a final lecture and hand gestures to ensure everyone was briefed on this adventure they sought.
He led them to the darkened forest
The mighty adventurers traversed through hills and rough terrain, passing through dense shrubs on the plains.
Twistar,s keen eye found roaming creatures under the glow of moonlight.
As his party drew near they hid and numbed their fear with a puff of psilocybin smoke and a final swig of beer.
Mentored by Alphaine six plus three, he used barding skills to gather creatures near the trees.
Song and fire with shooting flames, the eight legged creature is attracted by loud taunts and screaming shouts, with stagnating movement thereabouts.
Twistar sneaked past the slow-moving bodies of creepy eyes and long legs near his side; the battle started in the dead of night.
He performed a magical ritual to surround himself in fire; a flame with intense heat capable of burning flesh if anything came close to his position, leaving bodies burned beyond recognition.
The fire illuminated the area and revealed a creature hiding near a tree; the adventurers followed Twistar’s lead.
A magical cold strike surrounded the creature in ice spikes, trapping its movement to a slow crawl, making it easier to target for a violent brawl.
A loud thundering sound emitted from a hammers ground pound; a sensation of vibrations caused blurred vision to anything around, delaying their actions in a momentary pause, giving the adventurers a few more seconds to avoid the creature’s claws.
The magic dissipated and the creature escaped with only a few scars on its face.
The adventurers scrambled in an unorganised manner, trying to find some light that is hiding in the darkness of night.
It was a chaotic pace with weapons swinging wildly during the creature chase.
A sword swung fast and freely in mid-air, but it was unable to hit the fast moving creature as it ran in circles, the speed blurring its shadow features.
A polearm patiently waited to attack as the weapon is slow to move when trying to slice, but it missed the creature with each attempted strike.
A bow shot arrows from afar, but the arrows were unable to find the target in darkened space as the creature was camouflaged by its colour and shape.
Twistar moved fast with his skills of haste, delaying his perception of actual events; a fierce battle with rage that took place; attacking the creature with eight legs with a storm of fire and a finishing melee stab.
He paused his actions for a second to assess the battle; the cacophony’s inception rumbling crashing and çrackling noises from close proximity.
It was a tumultuous event confused by haste due to darkness and a scary place.
When his eyes blinked to focus his vision, he saw a large hammer swinging above him with rising and downward motion towards his position. He squinted in fear as a hammer strike came near but it landed near his feet where the creature was last seen; he continued to move fast to avoid another melee bash.
Twistar’s mind draws a blank as he is unable to remember the next event that led to his party’s horrific ending fate, leaving four people dead and without a trace.
The solace of the forest deepened as if the ghost of their corpses found relief, but he did not. He reeled from the loss of blood which he suffered and felt his eyelids twinkle of their own accord.
He holds the Fang still and digs it into his chest for a faster exit.
The light of the moon went out as soon as the Fang broke through the Bony cage of his ribs and touched his heart.
The afterlife wasn’t all it seemed as Twistar’s eyes fluttered open.
His burning headaches are from the nightmares which he suffered. The violent intensity of the dreams seemed to drain his own body of energy.
His heart paced when he sensed he recognised the forest space from the dream he had just awoken from.
Something about the dream dragged within him. It flutters in the region within his reach like a butterfly but these details elude his stretching grasp.
Twistar jerks from his position into a standing one. His heart sinks when he finally realises the events of the night.
He throws the fang on the ground, pinching his skin and slapping his face for effect.
He feels the sting of each action. He has to be awake.
The thoughts of the battle enter his mind and panic sets in.
There was no exit.
The entire forest space is an enclosure of dull grey matter covering every side of the mountain.
The air reaches his nostrils in jagged breaths.
“Hello” he cried out “Hello!”
The voice that returned was not an echo of his yelling; it came from a particular section of his mind.
He swallows a hard bowl of air when the realisation of what happened trickles into his memory, like a small pool of water sluicing into the corridors of his thoughts.
“Welcome to the world you have made for yourself Twistar”
The voices followed the travelling wind that came in through a crack in which the rays of moonlight flickered in.
After a moment he recognises all the voices. It’s the same voices that begged for life when Twistar attacked his party, a party of four adventurers; the eight legged creatures he saw that night. He had burned them all with his fire, and a final stab with his handheld weapon – a poisonous fang that dug deep in their chests rendering their bodies dormant and dead as the venom settled in. One by one he killed them all.
When it was all over, he stared at the bloody fang and threw it on the ground.
“What have I done?” he thought.
A voice in his head offered a solution – run.
The details of his actions recorded in a flashback.
Twistar searched for the source of the voice.
A man of violent disposition even he was forced into cowardice by the situation.
“Now, let’s play a little game shall we?”
The voice turns sinister and the chills come back.
Twistar couldn’t plead for escape from what should be the 15th loop of the vicious circle.
He reaches instinctively for the Fang and goes about his business with fluid acuity.
For the first time in days he has all the yearnings for an escape and no willingness to run.
He’s a man insane.
From the troubles of life in a circle which he did not understand .
He didn’t flinch when the Fang dug into his flesh and tore into his chest .
He didn’t hesitate to shield his eyes when his eyelids closed.
Twistar’s eyes would open once more to the agony of an unending night.
The hallucinations continue until the bartender in the Tavern shakes his body.
“Twistar, wake up!
Your friends are ready to go on the adventure.”
Twistar the howling wind of Spindleskog!