Chapter 23: 2.4 – Secrets of Wyndham Wood

A stray branch etched a line of fire across Robin’s cheek as he ran, following close behind the fleeing figure of Eli. Around them, the wood rustled, trees and plants moving in unnatural ways, bending under the brunt of Cherry’s fury. Fortunately, they weren’t at full-on Evil Dead levels of movement.

Yet.

‘This way,’ Eli called from up ahead. ‘We’re not far now!’

Not far from what? Shelter of some kind, yeah, but what? Robin’s mind was spinning with all manner of warding stones or circle of flame, but he didn’t know what to look for. Best not get separated then.

Robin tried to put on a burst of speed, but Eli remained almost out of sight ahead of him. The cleric was just faster on his feet. Robin really shouldn’t have given up running after this past Christmas.

He also wasn’t used to running in a forest that was quite this thick with underbrush and fallen branches. Robin tripped over a concealed limb and nearly went sprawling. It was only though dumb luck and some serious windmill action with his arms that he didn’t face-plant in the loam and decaying leaves in front of him.

When he righted himself, Eli was nowhere in sight. He’d saved himself a tumble but lost his guide!

‘Eli!’ he shouted, ‘Eli, can you hear me? Where are you?’

Come on! Focus! It’s a world of skills, one of which is Survival. Robin quirked an ear in case Eli shouted back at him, Burt bent his eye to the woods, looking for signs of passage.

It can’t be that hard, right? They were running full tilt, not exactly trying to conceal their tracks. And this was a forest floor, not the stone of a mountain tunnel. It should hold tracks easily.

It did, quite clearly. Robin’s own trail was painfully clear. Well, he knew where he’d seen Eli last. He just needed to continue carefully in that direction until he spotted the trail.

Robin moved forward as quickly as he dared, which was not that speedy a pace at all. Anxious whispers mocked him from the corners of his mind where they partied with his fears and got drunk on the adrenaline spiking at the base of his jaw. He had to hurry. Eli could easily outpace him, and if the cleric route dup a stream or hit a patch of rocky ground, Robin might lose the trail.

A few agonising minutes later, Robin found the signs of Eli’s passage. At least, he hoped it was Eli’s. Though any of his allies would do. There were definitely footprints here. Too big too be Grathilde’s or Ora-Jean’s, but the right size for Lantha or Fiamah. It was probably Eli’s. It made the most sense it was Eli’s. Focus!

Robin shook his head to clear it and set off following the trail, speeding up now that he had it. He still couldn’t move as fast as he had before, but the pace soothed his anxieties a bit.

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Though why hadn’t Eli stopped? Had he not noticed? Robin picked up the pace a bit more. Maybe something had happened. He had no idea how Cherry might move through the wood. Dryads in some literature could literally step into one tree and out of another. A perfect ambush power, if used correctly.

Frell. He really did not know enough about this world he found himself in. And relying on superficial similarities between this place and the games and literature of his own world would probably get him killed sooner rather than later.

‘Robin! Stop!’

Eli’s voice slammed into his ears just as he was about to follow the cleric’s tracks into a small clearing. Robin windmilled his arms again, this time to grab hold of a nearby trunk and arrest his momentum. The bark scraped his palm but he managed to stop himself from tumbling headfirst out of the trees.

It was a small clearing, only a dozen or so strides across. It was dominated by the blasted trunk of what had once been a massive tree. An oak? Robin had no way to tell. When it died, it had left a huge gap in the wood. Now, that space was filled with lush green grass and some form of flowering vine. Verdant tendrils studded with star-like yellow blossoms wrapped around the tree and snaked through the grass. Robin could just make out several similarly bright coloured gourds in various stages of growth peeking through the grass.

Eli was sprawled near the base of the dead tree’s trunk, one leg and an arm partially elevated into the air and bound to the dead wood with the living vines. Robin involuntarily began to take a step forward when she saw the nearest vine slither toward him. He froze.

‘What is that thing?’ he called to Eli.

‘Ghilded Ghourd,’ came the reply. ‘It’s a sentient plant, very dangerous. You’re going to have to find something you can use to smash as many ghourds as you can. That should weaken the vine enough that you can tear me free.’

‘On it!’ Robin began casting around for something he could use as a weapon.

‘Quick as you can,’ Eli yelled. ‘This thing is already trying to invade my mind.’

‘It’s what?’ Robin whipped around to look at the tableaux again. As he watched the vines shifted again and this time he clearly saw the tendrils coiling their way into Eli’s ears. ‘Right. Be with you in a sec!’

What was with this world and snakey things trying to get inside your head, literally? Robin shuddered at the memory of the priest of Urkhan and the serpent that lived in his empty eye socket.

There! A seasoned branch, reasonably straight. That would do for a quarterstaff. Robin snapped off a few twig and gave it an experimental twirl. Had he trained in the use of the staff? No. Had he spent too much time as a child pretending to be Robin Hood, Bugs Bunny, and various Jedi? Oh frells yeah.

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