Old Blood
As Argurios carefully walked to the sitting soldier, his nerves were taut as a bowstring. Yet nothing happened. No sudden cries from hidden attackers. No strange occurrences heralding the presence of something
other. Not even the man leaning against the stump made any motion at his approach. For a moment he thought himself foolish for coming here just to see another corpse. The body lay still, and he could make out the faint shapes of thorny vines growing over it. Yet then the clouds shifted and the moon came out in full, its light flowing over the world and revealing the truth.
The body was not rotten, the flesh still hale and healthy. Yet the vines were not draped over it, but growing out of it. All over the arms and face of the man he could see the vines erupting from his skin, thorns pushing up the skin from underneath and pulling it taut like a tent in some places. And yet, no single drop of blood was to be seen. And yet, the man was breathing. Shallowly, only the slightest movement of his chest giving at away, though there was no denying that the soldier yet lived.
With trepidation, Argurios made the last few steps towards him, his spear clutched tightly in his fist. When the man didn't stir, he mulled about what to do, what to say. But what could he say to a man that lived despite his body being torn apart from within? In the end, he settled for the obvious. "Soldier. Report."
Ever so slowly, the man lifted his head, awkwardly angling it towards Argurios. "I know your voice. You are important, aren't you?" He opened his lids, though no eyes were revealed beneath, only tightly wrapped, barbed vines. The man tried to look around, sweeping his head from side to side, but it was clear that he would never find the one who had spoken to him. "I don't remember... and I can't see your face... That is bad, isn't it?"
Argurios crouched down next to him, getting a tiny bit closer to the dying man to better hear his faint words. "Who are you?"
For a moment, the mans face scrounged up as if in deep thought before returning to the vacant expression he bore before. "I don't remember that either. I think this is bad, but I don't know why. That should worry me. Right?" With every movement of his head, the vines pulled and twisted on his face in what should have been a painful mess of thorns, yet the soldier bore just that empty, lost look.
"Yes, it should." The reply was awkward and Argurios knew that the warrior would barely comprehend it, yet it was worth a try. For some reason, he was still alive and thus he was their only chance to learn more about the attacker. "What
do you remember?"
It took so long for him to answer that Argurios nearly repeated the question. "I remember coming here and being happy about that, yet not why. That's when I started forgetting things, but I think I was happy about that at first too. But here is not where here is. It was another here. I think I was supposed to wait here for a while."
Even before he had finished, Argurios had risen to his feet again, spear and shield at the ready. He gazed through the trees, looking for the trap he now knew was coming, but nothing came forth. Instead he noticed something different. Above the trees, the sky was clear, yet the moon nowhere in sight. And worse yet, he could no longer see the mountains, just an endless expanse of stars that looked nothing like the sky he was used to. "What do you mean by 'another here'?" He did not look back to the dying soldier at first, instead looking for the monster that that had done this to him. Though when the silence dragged on, he saw back and his heart sank. The warriors flesh was rotten now, not a single spark of life left in it.
For all his bravery, the scion of house Alexis could not deny the fear he felt in that moment. All alone he now was, lost in a place that he had no idea how he gotten to and the killer of his men apparently toying him like a cat with a mouse. Would this be his end then? Waiting on a clearing to wait for a monster to slay him? Just another corpse found in the woods? It would be easy to just sit down and wait for the inevitable like the other man has apparently done. No. He shook his head again to dislodge the thread of despair tangling around it. He was not a common soldier. He was Argurios Alexis of Hyphyria, and even if he died here, he would face death with dignity becoming of his station. And so he raised shield and spear, alert for any kind of movement around him, and set out into the forest again.
How long he had walked, he could not tell. Without a moon to tell the time, it could have been just moment or more then a day, though no sun had risen either. There was still just the stars above them and apparently it was them that shed the light that filled this strange forest. There was still no sign of life among it, just endless tracts of trees and underbrush. Argurios tunic had been torn again and again, fraying at the edges after being caught in one bush or thorn after another. Even his bronze shield, which he proudly polished to a mirror's shine every time he was to set out to battle, was looking dull from all the scratches upon it. And beneath it, his flesh ached. Not a drop of blood he had lost, but the pain of each thorn brushing over his skin lingered. It had begun to build on each other, his entire skin now feeling raw and itchy. His body begged him to stop. To rest. Just a few moments of respite.
Then a voice cut through the silence as if answering his unspoken prayers. "Come." Only that word she spoke, and a she it was without a doubt, the rich and alluring voice stirring hope and longing in his chest. Unthinking, he walked on, but now that he had a goal again the thorns brushing over him seemed less troublesome than before. It took not many steps until he reached a clearing again, and what he saw there made his breath catch in his throat.
Amidst the tall grass, stones were strewn and on them he saw a feast laid out fit for a king. Sweet fruits of any kind he knew and some he didn't laid on them. Next to the stones the woman who had called him lay. Long, black locks fell from her head towards her ample, bared chest. Her skin as white as snow, not a single blemish on it, and red lips were drawn into a smile as he staggered forward. "Come, Argurios. You have traveled far indeed and deserve some rest. Lay with me for a while." With this she took a cup from behind the stone she leaned on, filling it from a carafe of wine whose sweet scent wafted all the way to the weary warrior.
Before he knew it, he was next to her, unable to draw his gaze from her beauty. It seemed the gods had finally shown mercy, for why else should he find a kind Nymph in these far away lands? His spear clattered to the ground, simply dropped in his haste to take the cup she had offered him. The dark red of proper Greek wine filled the cup, the smell alone enough to evoke memories of better times. He recalled the feasts of Orchomenos, when his father called other noble houses into their home to dine and drink and make merry with each other. He recalled the grand festival in honor of Dionysus, performed to celebrate the day he had taken refuge in the city from Heras wrath. He recalled the simple times when he went to a tavern with a few friends.
A twinge of sadness darkened his mood. Most of these friends were dead now, claimed by sickness and hunger, and those that yet lived were not the same as before, not after seeing all they knew turning into ash around them. The tavern they loved so much had been a smoking a ruin last time he saw it. The owner had put it to the torch and was consumed in the flames. The grief was too much for him to bear after he lost his son, the final member of his family. The sickness had claimed him last after already robbing him of his wife and daughter. He still remembered them well, the jovial man joking with his patrons while his wife cooked in the back, and the beauty that was his daughter waiting on the guests. She was...
With a start Argurios realized that the cup had nearly been to his lips already, and with all his might he threw it away. In one smooth movement he grabbed for his spear and backed away, leveling it at the monster before him. "You dare to mock me by wearing a dead woman's face to fool me? Show yourself, creature!"
The pleasant smile on the girl's face turned into something ugly as she rose. All warmth drained from it, making her look more like a wolf eyeing its prey. "How come you call it mockery, when you barely recognized me? You laid with her so often, yet you can't even recall her name. Just another pleasing shape to warm your bed." With these words she stepped towards him, all the while running her hands over her naked curves. Argurios stepped back, wary of the monster, yet he couldn't gainsay its words. He recalled her face, yet not her name.
"Maybe another shape, then? There are so many I could choose from." Like water her face began to ripple and flow and two steps later, she bore the face of another woman. Brown tresses falling over a face cut like that of the local people. To his shame, Argurios took a moment to recognize the farmer's daughter from that village to the north. "Or maybe you would prefer some other fare tonight?" Again she stepped forward, again Argurios stepped back and again her face shifted.
Now it was no woman any longer, the angular lines of an old comrade greeting him. They had lain with each other during that campaign to quell the barbaroi north of Orchomenos, but he had not returned from those fights. The fear slowly gave way to anger as the thing that bore his lover's face advanced. "Why are you doing this? I shared my bed with these people, that is true, but never did I harm them. Is that what you want? To lay with me?"
A mocking laughter rung from the throat of his dead friend, wholly at odds with the kind man who once bore that face. "Never did you harm? All of them you used for your amusement, but in the end, discarded them like broken cups. You know quite well how they thought about you in the end. After all, there is one whose presence you had to bear after you tired of her." When the face shifted again, the vicious grin finally found a proper home. On Semni's face it looked natural, and every cutting remark that would pass those lips was almost soothing normalcy.
"So she bid you to do this." It all made such perfect sense to Argurios. The barbaroi woman must have called this spirit upon him to punish him for the slights she dreamed up. A shame that Isidoros would perhaps never learn what folly it was to dismiss his concerns about Semni's motives.
Another bought of laughter erupted from the thing, tinged with genuine mirth at his expense. "Spare me the hollow accusations. I have seen your heart Argurios of house Alexis. I know it better yet than you do yourself. You know just what it is that caused her grief and spite. You just buried it beneath all that hollow bluster and baseless pride of yours." Again she ran her hands over her body, though nothing sensual could he find about it now. Wicked claws now sprung from the tips of her fingers, digging into flesh that had Semni's semblance and making rivers of blood spring forth from it. "Let us begin our dance."
And with this, the creature crouched low and rushed the Greek warrior, a cruel laughter ripping from her throat. Argurios knew that she was coming, yet only barely managed to raise his shield in time. She was fast and agile like a dancer, yet the blow felt as if an oxen had tried to bowl him over. Her claws raked over his shield, digging deep gouges into the bronze and nearly crushing his arm with force alone. In desperation, he swung his spear at her, hoping to hit her head with the haft, though she easily turned under it and attacked again.
This time her claws found purchase, tearing the flesh on his left shoulder before digging into the edges of his cuiras. Not a crippling blow, but had he been just a heartbeat slower to turn from her, he would have lost that arm entirely. She was too close. She was too fast. His spear lashed out towards her belly, but struck just empty air. The creature tried to retaliate in kind, thrusting it's claws towards his own torso and Argurios knew that the bronze would never be able to stop her. This was a battle he had no hope to win, but in that shortest of moments he vowed not to run away. He would die standing here like a Greek nobleman, not running from this thing like a scared child.
Instead of trying to turn away from the blow to lessen the wound, he stood his ground and even dropped his shield. As he had anticipated, the metal parted easily to her might, five finger-sized holes punched into the cuirass and the flesh beneath. Yet now he had a chance to take the slippery creature. His left hand clasped around her elbow, holding her arm in place and confusion showed on Semni's face. Then his spear lashed out again, and this time she could not dodge so easily. It was not a good hit, but that didn't matter. Instead of piercing her heart, he had just clipped her shoulder, yet he had made her bleed.
The creature sprang back, clutching its shoulder, and again her form rippled. This time though, it was not a face that Argurios knew. It was not a human face at all. Her hair had become white and tangled, her eyes milky and her teeth rotten. It's face still bore a semblance of faded beauty, but marred by scars and the wrinkles of a crone. She was not naked anymore, instead wearing a dress made from blood-soaked rags hiding her hunched form, and on top of her head sat a crown made from thorny vines twisted around each other. From her shoulder, a thin stream of blood ran down her arm. It was not the red blood that sprang from the wounds she had inflicted upon herself, but reddish brown and reeking of offal.
Argurios tried to settle into a combat stance. He didn't dare to take up his shield, for he feared that he would never rise again if he crouched down to retrieve it. Idly he noted the blood clinging to the tip of his spear, sizzling and warping the metal by its mere presence. But instead of attacking him, the creature just screamed at him. A sound so overwhelming as if it was thunder and gut wrenching as the voices of the damned. He didn't know when he had fallen to his knees or when he tried to clutch his ears to stop the sound, yet he did know that it did nothing. His vision began to swim as the wailing threatened to tear his mind apart.
Then, though, just as blackness had nearly claimed him, the splash of water brought him back to his sense. Eagerly he tried to suck in breath, yet only water filled his mouth and he flailed around like drunkard for a moment. The next breath he took was air and so he took another, then another. His lungs burned with pain from the water he had inhaled, but even that sensation was a welcome respite from the senseless terror that scream had instilled in him. The thought jostled Argurios wide awake again and he hastily looked around him for the creature, yet it was nowhere in sight.
He was laying on the side of one of the small streams he had crossed on his journey that felt so long ago now. Around him were only his shield and spear, the trees and the occasional cry of an owl filled the night. And above him stood the moon in all its glory, shining silver light upon him that felt so much warmer then what he had seen in that other here. Then he heard something else. A cry of a man, in Greek no less, and soon after the light of torches came closer. Slowly he lowered his had again, laying it half into the warm water to feel the soothing current dragging on his hair. Suddenly the thought of returning to Hyphyria made him almost euphoric. Though there would be much to tell Isidoros upon his return.
What is to be done with the spear?
[] Destroy it, lest the accursed blood taint Hyphyria by its very presence.
[] Present it onto the Gods so that by their power Argurios might be rid of the horror hunting him. (locks in Offering to the Gods for Argurios next turn)
-[] To Hephaestus, most beloved of your people. May blessed bronze see victory where the work of mortal hands could not.
-[] To Demeter, Lady of the Harvest, she who had dominion over all the spirits of green growing things so that she may purge this blight.
-[] To Ares, the God of War. Rarely called upon by any other then soldiers, for his attention always brings strife, though a boon of his could end this matter swiftly.
-[] To Gradivus who is god of these lands and protector of its peoples. He should know these spirits bright and dark and could bestow the strength needed to vanquish them.
-[] To Culsans, God of Portends in these lands. He has shown his hand towards you once and he might do so again if proper offerings are made.
[] Travel to the lands of the Woodsfolk and seek their guidance. (diplomatic mission to the Woodsfolk locked in for Argurios next turn)
AN: Well, that was a very, very close fight, but Argurios barely managed to get a draw.