The Fall of Gilneas – Chapter 1: Being Watched
The Fall of Gilneas
Chapter 1: Being Watched
For me, the Greymane Wall has always been there. It was a simple fact of life. I walked out on the north-facing balcony of my home and stared past the comparatively modest walls of Gilneas City, past the Northern Headlands to the hulking barrier that spanned our borders from the Great Sea to the Baradin Bay. Our parents all used to tell us the wall was there for our protection – that the other kingdoms of man, the trolls, the orcs…whoever…had no business bringing their troubles on the Gilnean people. But I didn’t feel protected…I felt trapped.
Maybe it was the fact my father captained a merchant’s ship – one of the few allowed to leave the territory to trade goods with other kingdoms. When he was home, he would tell me unbelievable stories of the places he’s been and the people he’s met. Through him, I knew a little about the world beyond our borders. That knowledge fueled a desire for adventure, to break free from the cage that was Gilneas and see the world first hand. My father agreed to take me on one of his voyages if I were still unmarried by twenty-one, but that was still three years off.
As always, the morning air was cool and the sky was overcast, threatening to rain at a moment’s notice. Every so often, a slim ray of sunlight would slip through the cloud coverage, creating an oddly magical effect against such a morose backdrop. A chilling wind whipped through the streets; I let my long, black hair flutter with the wind as I crossed my arms and tucked my hands into the cotton sleeves of my chemise for warmth. Like most young women my age, I selected undergarments with particularly low necklines, which was not particularly practical for the cold Gilnean Springs. But it was comfortable.
I turned my attention downward, towards the busy streets of the Market Square quarter of Gilneas city. The vendors were already hard at work peddling their wares. They stood in the shadow of the rows of wooden houses that lined the streets, protected from the rain beneath the balconies, should the weather decide to turn. The people were just as dreary as the weather. The men all dressed similarly, with their dark vests and trousers beneath black, high-collared waistcoats with long tails in the back. Many wore top hats. Many of the women wore dark outerwear, like the long redingotes resembling the greatcoats worn by some of the more wealthy male merchants in the square. For the most part, everyone dressed in dismal colors as they walked the cobblestone streets to conduct their business. Only a few women sported vibrant gowns, analogous to the thin glimpses of sunshine that occasionally penetrated the sky.
After letting out a long breath, made jagged through shivering in the wind, I retreated to the warmth of my home. The flames in the lamps flickered, sending uneven light across the walls of my modest bedroom. The house was completely silent, as I expected it to be. My father was away on another voyage and he had not looked for a nanny to watch over me for near five years now. I wandered down the stairs into the kitchen in search of food. Upon quick inspection of the cupboards, I found some bread and cheese that would suffice for breakfast. I’ll have to go to the market later to find something more substantial for the rest of the day’s meals.
I brought my simple meal back up to my bedroom, where I took a seat at my writing desk. While I ate, I paged through a book my father had brought back for me from one of his journeys. It detailed history of the fall of Lordaeron and the undead plague that ravaged the country. Apparently, this occurred when in my lifetime; when I was just a child. I shuddered to think of the horrors that people faced while we hid, safe behind our wall. The gate opened for nobody – that was the law. So, anyone seeking refuge from the scourge was ignored and left to die. That included our own people in Pyrewood Village and Ambermill, far to the north in the Silverpine Forest.
I tried to understand what it might have felt like to be abandoned by my own people. We had no way of knowing if they were still alive. Maybe they are. Maybe they waited out the plague in the keep that overlooked Pyrewood. But nobody seemed to care. Except, of course, Lord Darius Crowley. It was easy to sympathize with his uprising in Northgate. All they want is for the capital to protect the territories beyond the wall. Is that so bad? But, to say I agree with it would have me labeled a traitor. In secret, I prayed to the Holy Light that Lord Crowley’s cause would gain enough influence to sway King Greymane’s decision to finally opening up the gate so that we can return to the world.
I had read the book a hundred times already, and each time my passion for one-day leaving Gilneas grew stronger. Today was no different.
I finished eating, wiping the crumbs from the bread off of the book and putting it back in its place amongst the other collections of Azeroth’s history. I stood and walked across my room, a couple of the floorboards creaking under my feet. I glanced out the window to see the clock tower. It’s time to get ready for my lesson.
I walked over to my wardrobe and started pulling out my clothing. I laced up a corset around my waist up to just under my breasts – but not too tightly. I knew plenty of women who liked to choke themselves for the chance to look skinnier. I didn’t care about that, and it would restrict my movement. I mostly did it because that’s what women wore. I had to conform on some level, or else I would be shunned, as I imagined the women wearing the bright clothes were, despite how refreshing it was to see. That sort of dress may have been acceptable down in Stormglen or at formal events, but not in the city proper during the day-time.
Unlike most other women, who tended to wear gowns over a petticoat, I opted for simple cotton trousers. A dress was too hard to move around. I always had to be careful not to trip over the cloth. I wasn’t the only one who did it though, so it didn’t hurt my reputation too badly. I was just viewed as tomboyish, which wasn’t completely inaccurate. Going along with that, I put on a pair of half-calf boots.
Next, I slipped into my black spencer: a long-sleeved, high-waisted jacket, cropped just above the small of my back. I hated the dreary appearance of the city, but black was a fairly solid color for the jacket. Oh well, you can’t win every battle. And it would allow me to walk through the streets without drawing much attention.
Finally, I slipped a belt around my trousers, complete with a sheathed rapier to rest at my left side. It may not have been ladylike, but my father always taught me never to leave yourself vulnerable. Sure, some of the women may hide a small pistol in their cleavage, but I had concerns about the safety of such a storage space. Also, I want people to know I am armed from the get-go. It helps the decision-making process along. And pistols aren’t really my thing.
Now fully clothed, I grabbed my pack and threw my money purse inside. I blew out the candles and headed down the stairs, extinguishing all of the lamps as I went. Once the house was as dark as it was silent, I made my way through the front door.
I stood for a moment, leaning against one of the pillars holding up the porch, staring out at busy streets. Most people paid me no mind, or seemed to be actively averting their gazes. I laughed a little to myself before hopping down the single step and making my way into the market. It was still kind of chilly, but my clothes were warm enough.
There were voices all around me; vendors announcing their wares and trying to approach passersby. It was easy to get distracted by some of the stalls, but I didn’t have time to shop. I needed something to eat for around midday and that was it.
First, I approached a man selling apples, pears, and other ripe-looking fruit. “Good morning, Mister Grandon,” I greeted jovially. He was an older, very polite man who was always in the square, without fail. He was also very proper and prude, and sometimes I liked to push the limits.
His face lit up on seeing me. “Ah, Miss Malmin, good day!” he returned. “How is your day?”
“It’s cold and colorless,” I responded dramatically. “Could you help me with that?”
“I think I may. The apples are particularly good this time of year. And they’re the perfect color to brighten your day,” he claimed, holding up a shiny red apple.
“Well, I’ll be. You’ve talked me into it, you old costermonger,” I told him, reaching into my coin purse and pulling out a silver coin. I tossed it to him as he handed me the apple.
“Thank you for your business. By the way, how is your father?” he inquired, pocketing the money.
“As far as I know, he’s doing as well as ever. He’s been gone almost a fortnight, so I expect him back any day now,” I responded. “I’ll send him your regards,” I assured him with a wave. I started to walk away.
Mister Grandon cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Miss Malmin…” I stopped and turned back to him. “Can I offer you a fichu?” he asked, holding up a piece of cloth and staring at the ground.
I touched a hand to my exposed neckline, bringing it to rest on the top of one of my breasts. “What’s wrong? Don’t like what you see?” I whined in a sarcastically offended voice.
He looked uncomfortable. “No, it’s…I…I am just worried that there are people who will think you a chit for the lack of modesty,” he explained, face turning red beneath his white whiskers.
I laughed. “I don’t rightly care if they think me a chit,” I responded with a shrug. “I’m not exactly a missish kind of girl, so why pretend? But thank you for your concern,” I stated with a smile. “Now that’s enough gabbing for today. Ciao!” I placed the apple carefully in my satchel and moved on.
Mister Grandon bowed his head, stuffing the cloth back into his pocket. Almost without missing a beat, I heard him going back to announcing his fruit to the marketplace. For an old guy, he can really project his voice.
My next stop was to Benjamin Sykes, a man about my father’s age who sold various cured meats. He had dark hair, waxed back, and long, thick mutton chops. There was a rough look about his face, and many people tended to avoid extended conversation with him due to his appearance. However, he never aggressed towards me, so I believed him to be relatively harmless.
“Miss Malmin, how are you on this brisk morning?” he asked as I approached. I, or rather my family, was well known in the Market Square since my father often shipped goods to the local vendors. We weren’t members of the gentry, by any means, but we were at least respected.
“I’m getting by. How’s business?” I replied. I couldn’t help but notice his eyes wandering. While Mister Grandon was prudish, Benjamin could be a bit of a lout.
“Profitable as always. The people around here love their pheasant, and I have plenty in stock. You should grab some before they’re gone,” he offered, holding up a dead bird by its feet.
I shook my head. “I need something a little more portable. A pound of jerky, if you will,” I requested.
“Going out again, today, hmm?” he probed, while starting to measure out the meat. “Rumor has it you’ve been having a little affair with the blacksmith from Keel Harbor,” he added with a sideways grin.
“That is absolutely and unequivocally false!” I declared. “He’s a blacksmith’s apprentice,” I corrected.
Benjamin put his hands in the air. “Well, sorry. Honest mistake, love,” he laughed. “Now you can’t eat all of this yourself, will you? You’ll lose that figure! You’re going to share this meat with your friend, right?” he commented.
“Only if he shares his with me,” I responded coquettishly, winking. Even if I didn’t eat it all, jerky would keep for a while. I’d be fine.
Benjamin laughed, handing me the small bag filled with food. “Well, I’m not sure you should be talking like that. It’s not exactly what people would come to expect by such an accomplished young lady such as yourself,” he joked with a chuckle. Yeah…accomplished.
I paid him with a few silver coins. “Oh, but your day would be so much duller if I acted more proper, wouldn’t it? I know you’re imagining it.”
“That it would,” he agreed. “Thanks for the image. It’ll stay with me all day.”
“Consider that the tip,” I laughed. “Well, that’s all for now. I may be back this afternoon for some of that pheasant,” I told him, bidding him good day.
“You stay safe out there. There’s been strange things happening out on the roads lately,” he warned. Strange things?
I assured him I would and was on my way. As I walked away, I wondered what strange things had been happening on the roads. I should have asked what he meant. But nothing ever happened here. Maybe the occasional traveler getting killed by a crocolisk down in the marshes west of the Blackwald, but that was nothing particularly strange.
I had pretty much everything I needed. As I wandered away from the market, I found an unattended water spigot and filled up my canteen with fresh water. After that, I walked more deliberately, passing the rows of houses and ducking down empty alleyways to avoid the crowd in the streets. I passed a small stone bridge running over the canal that came in from the Northgate river, ran around the city and emptied out towards the sea.
By crossing the bridge, I officially left the Merchant Square Quarter and entered the Cathedral Quarter. There weren’t really any buildings in this section of the city; just hedges, stairs, and fountains. It was meant to be more of an entryway from the main gate of Gilneas to the magnificent Light’s Dawn Cathedral that stood in the exact center of the city, surrounded on all sides by the canal and towering above the other quarters benevolently. Compared to the rather dismal décor of the rest of the city, the Cathedral Quarter was simply astonishing in its regal beauty. And it was also quite peaceful; with the exception of a few patrolling guards, there were few citizens about. Most people confined themselves to the other three districts of the city.
I made for the main gate, gazing around at the scenery as I walked. As expected, it was wide open. There really was no purpose to closing it; what was going to threaten Gilneas? Well, except for Crowley’s rebels, but they would never attack the city, would they? Not directly anyway. All of the fighting in the rebellion had taken place in the headlands or forest to the north.
Outside of the gate was yet another bridge that needed to be crossed. I followed the stone road northwest for a short distance before coming to a fork in the road. Following it northeast would take me between the Northern Headlands and the Northgate Woods. To the southwest, the road would take me towards Keel Harbor.
There was a small structure at the intersection. It was originally designed to be a watch-post, I think, but it was frequently unmanned. Like the houses in the city, this building had a covered porch with two columns on each side to support it. On the second floor was a sturdy, wrought-iron balcony overlooking the road. It was on the doorstep of this building that I waited.
I sat there, gazing around lazily. Gilneas city looked different from the outside; mostly because I could only really see the cathedral shooting up into the sky over the wall. Likely coincidentally, a thin ray of light broke through the clouds and shone on it.
While I waited, I retrieved the apple from my pack and bit into it. Mister Grandon was right; they were particularly good this time of year. It was very sweet and juicy. Like the light, it was just one little thing to help brighten this otherwise dreary day.
I began to feel as if I were being watched. I scanned my surroundings more carefully, searching for any sign of life. However, the wind picked up again, rustling the nearby trees and bushes. There was so much noise and ambient sound that picking out something that could have its eyes on me was much more difficult. Why can’t I shake this feeling? I narrowed my eyes. I swear to the Light, if it’s her…
“Behind you!” a voice shouted near my ear as I felt hands clap down on my shoulders.
With a yelp and in one swift motion, I jumped to my feet, spun around, unsheathed and brandished my rapier. It took a moment for me to realize the tip of my blade was pointed mere inches from the neck of my boyfriend. I lowered my weapon. “Damn it, Daniel, are you cork-brained or something?” I argued.
“Good lord, Naomi, you seem a bit high strung today,” he pointed out, forcing a chuckle.
I sighed. “Sorry, something Ben Sykes said to me today has me a little nervous, I guess,” I responded airily, sheathing my weapon. I turned and stared back at the trees. There’s nothing there. I still felt like I was being watched, though, and not by him.
“Oh?”
“He said something about strange things happening on the roads as of late,” I explained, still gazing around warily. I’m sure it’s nothing.
“The man was probably foxed off his nut,” Daniel shrugged.
Maybe that’s it. But he didn’t look it, and Benjamin Sykes was not known to be one to overindulge himself with the ale. I just sort of nodded absently.
“Shall we?” he offered, holding out his hand.
“I suppose we shall,” I responded, throwing him a genuine smile and taking his hand. We walked up the road, hand-in-hand, to the northeast. I liked to go into the Northgate forest. With the rebellion going on, there was excitement in the added danger. And what if we actually met some rebels? What if they gave me a chance to join them? I don’t honestly know how I would answer. I guess it depends on how Daniel would answer. As we walked, I still felt the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that someone or something was watching me. Every so often, I would look back. What was that? A shadow would disappear into the foliage. But all was quiet. Must be my imagination.
I tried to distract myself by glancing over at him. Daniel LeReaux was a tall man with broad shoulders. He had short, reddish hair and thick sideburns that covered his cheeks, as was the fashion. His face was rugged, with strong cheekbones and a large nose. There was an astonishing handsomeness in his features. He wore a dark blue vest beneath a waistcoat of the same color. If I looked just inside the jacket, I could see the suspenders that held up his breeches, which were then tucked into his heart-topped calf-boots. He wore a cravat to cover his neck as if he were planning on being in fine company. There was a shorter, thicker sword than mine sheathed at his belt.
We broke off from the main road after a while and wandered deeper into the forest. Once we were well out of sight of the road, we stopped and dropped off our gear by a tree. “So…sparring first?” he asked.
I unsheathed my rapier in response and waited for him to ready his sword. One of the only ways to get any real practice with swordsmanship in the country was to join the guard detail; and that as something neither of us wanted to do. My father taught me how to wield a sword and Daniel picked up some moves of his own at his apprenticeship. It just made sense we would spar and refine our skills. He preferred stockier, heavier swords, whereas I went for speed and range. At least that was the explanation I would admit to. I wasn’t really strong enough to satisfactorily wield a heavier sword.
We went at it for a while, the clang of metal meeting echoing through the quiet forest. “So…ever wonder…why we do this?” Daniel asked between swings.
“So we can protect ourselves,” I responded quickly.
“But from what?” he continued. “The Northgate rebellion is over.”
I stopped. “What do you mean it’s ‘over?’” I inquired.
“You didn’t hear? Darius Crowley was caught trying to smuggle weapons into the city,” Daniel explained, matter-of-factly.
“What? When?” How did I not hear about this?
“Yeah, it happened like two nights ago, cork-brain,” he taunted. I grimaced and swung at him, but he deflected it. He chuckled. “Careful there, not the face,” he commented. “So, we need to come up with a better reason to keep sparring.”
“Do we really need a reason?” I mean, we get to see each other. I thought for a moment. “We’ll have to know how to fight when we go off on Daddy’s ship,” I suggested. I took another swing to get us started again.
“You’re really intent on leaving Gilneas, aren’t you?” he asked, almost sorrowfully.
“I am!” I replied excitedly. “Don’t you want to go, too? See the world?”
“But it’s safe here. You’ve heard what happened beyond the wall,” he protested.
“But it’s boring!” I whined. “Come on. You could grow up to be a blacksmith in Keel Harbor, or you could smith in Ironforge! Could you imagine? The dwarves are supposed to be some of the best smiths in all of Azeroth.” I was already getting excited thinking about personally seeing all of the things I’d only seen in books.
“I guess,” he shrugged while still deflecting my strikes. I couldn’t help but feel his mind wasn’t in it. “But I thought the deal with your father was that you had to be unmarried when you turned twenty-one to join him,” he pointed out, obviously disappointed to hear.
“Is that a problem? It’s just three more years,” I shrugged.
“Does that mean I have to wait three years to make you mine?” I complained.
“I don’t remember that stopping us before,” I reminded him with a smile, ducking behind a tree. He chased after me and we started sparring on the move.
“But it’s not proper! What will people say?” Daniel wondered. I couldn’t tell if he were serious.
I giggled. “I’d take you on the floor of Light’s Dawn during mass, for all I care what people would say,” I declared resolutely. I turned around; Daniel had disappeared. I stood there, confused, momentarily.
Daniel jumped out from behind a nearby tree and tackled me to the ground. “Well, you are a little chit, aren’t you?” he accused lovingly. Lying over me, his face only inches from mine.
“Yes, but I’m your chit,” I purred, cheeks reddening. He rightfully took that as an invitation. I closed my eyes to feel as things began heating up. After several, passionate minutes, he pulled away. I opened my eyes. “Why did you stop?” I demanded, irritated.
Daniel nodded off to the right. “We’re being watched,” he whispered quietly.
I followed his gaze. Off in the trees, about forty yards off, was a large, dark-furred cat. It sat plainly, staring directly at us, looking more like it was enjoying the show than it was about to attack. I groaned. I’m going to kill her.
“I feel like I’ve seen that thing around here before,” Daniel observed, standing up and straightening out his clothes before picking up his sword. “But we don’t have any cats that big in Gilneas. Where did it come from?” he wondered out loud.
I stood as well and watched as the cat approached us. When she was nearby, she sat back down and stared at me, head cocked to the side. I could see a mischievous glint in her eye.
“It looks like it knows you, poppet,” Daniel stated, scratching his head. “Is it someone’s pet?”
The cat growled at the question; it was a deep gurgle that would have made most people quiver. I wasn’t intimidated. “Not quite,” I responded. I held out my hand and the cat came over and nuzzled my palm. “It’s a…um…a friend,” I stated. I’m not lying! I sighed. “I’m sorry, Daniel, I think we’ll have to cut the meeting short today. Same time tomorrow, though?” I asked hopefully.
He let out an equally-frustrated sigh. “I suppose. Let me at least walk you to the road,” he offered. He and I went to collect our belongings from the tree and the cat followed us back to the path. We walked together until we reached the crossroads. Daniel gave me a warm kiss on the lips before bidding me good afternoon and making his way down the road to Keel Harbor.
I waited until he was well out of earshot. “Gwen, you bitch!” I exclaimed, turning around.
The cat was gone, replaced by a human woman who was about two months younger than me. Gwen Forrestier, my best friend, always had this strange power to turn into animals – the massive cat being her favorite. Several years ago, she was inducted into some strange religion that worshiped nature, and she learned all sorts of new tricks. Most people didn’t know about her magic and the druids usually operated behind the scenes anyway.
Like me, Gwen had long, straight black hair; but hers was always matted and split. There was a wildness to her large eyes, as if she could not completely suppress the feline nature. She wore only minimal clothes – a sleeveless chemise to cover her top, if we were lucky, and plain linen pants that only reached her knees. She never wore shoes.
“What? I didn’t do anything!” she responded with feigned innocence.
“Do you get off on watching me having sexy time with Daniel?” I accused.
She laughed. “Please! Watching you two going at it is like watching a troll eating a pumpkin,” Gwen retorted.
“I…wait, what? Which one of us is the troll and which is the pumpkin?” I wondered aloud. And what does that comparison even mean?
“Does it matter? But when are you going to introduce me to Daniel?” she responded. We started walking back north, towards the headlands.
“When you stop stalking us like you’re on the hunt and actually wait for me to bring him to you like a normal person,” was my reply. “I mean, seriously, have you been following me since I left the city?”
Gwen stopped. “No,” she responded seriously. “I was only there for like a minute when he saw me.”
I rolled my eyes and looked at her. Her face was stone-set. “What do you mean? So you weren’t the one watching me?”
She shook her head. “I have been on the hunt, but not for you two. At least not today. There’s a weird scent in the air and most of the animals are gone from the forest. Something’s up, but I can’t find it. When I came across you, I decided to stay to keep an eye out and make sure you were safe,” she explained earnestly. “Of course, interrupting your little play time was an added bonus,” Gwen threw in, almost in a taunting tone. How can she shift so quickly from mood to mood?
“Huh,” I grunted. I thought of the shadows I had seen darting in and out of the bushes and behind the trees as Daniel and I were walking up the road. Could there have actually been something there? I didn’t remember seeing anything while we were sparring, but I wasn’t paying too much attention to my surroundings.
“By the way, do I smell beef?” Gwen asked as we made our way up the hills overlooking the forest.
“Yeah, I bought some jerky from Ben before coming out,” I responded. “I was going to share it with Daniel, but I guess that’s out of the question.”
“Look, Naomi, I didn’t mean to get in the way,” she claimed. “I’m seriously concerned about the forest. I was seriously concerned about you two.” Her voice was low and regretful. “I mean, I’m sure you could have protected yourself if something had happened, but you weren’t exactly paying much attention.”
“I guess I was a tad distracted,” I admitted. We found a clear spot. “Why don’t we stop here for a while? We have a nice view of the forest. We’ll be able to see if anything comes out.”
Gwen nodded and we sat on the grass, leaning against a nearby boulder. I reached into my bag and pulled out the sack of jerky. I passed a hunk to Gwen before tearing into one, myself. We ate in silence for a bit.
After a moment, something furry brushed against my arm and I withdrew quickly, startled. “What in the…?” I trailed off, looking over at Gwen. A long, cat-like tail protruded from her back, just beneath her shirt. It swished around happily while she ate. “Gwen…what’s with the tail?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I like having it,” she claimed. I didn’t realize she had enough control over her forms to be able to do partial transformations.
“If you had a choice, you’d spend all your time as that cat, wouldn’t you?”
She shrugged. “If I could talk and, you know…cook, then yeah, I’d never change back. And having thumbs is nice,” she responded honestly. “There’s something amazing in the freedom of being able to prowl the wilds,” Gwen continued, taking another bite. “I think I’ve explored the whole peninsula.”
“You could have taken me with you,” I complained. She knew all about how cooped up I felt. Exploring the country might help alleviate some of the monotony.
She laughed. “I don’t think you’d be able to keep up with me.” Well, maybe not if she insisted on running around as the cat, but, I mean, she could always go a little bit slower. I watched as her ears started to grow, becoming long and pointed. Dark fur began to sprout along them. She looks so bizarre. But she looked happy; that’s all that mattered, I suppose.
We actually sat there for a lot longer than I had intended, just chatting and watching the still forest below. I hadn’t seen Gwen in several days, as she often spent extended periods of time outside of the city. In exchange for stories about my recent life and sparring-dates with Daniel, she filled me in on her adventures and talking about the rumors floating amongst the other druids.
“Hey Gwen, can I ask you? Do you really buy into all of this nature worship stuff?” I asked suddenly. The vast, vast majority of Gilneas worshiped the Holy Light and has for centuries. But these druids had other ideas…weirder ideas.
“This again? Look, I can turn myself into animals. There’s certainly some sort of power in nature. And it’s less worshiping nature and more about respecting and venerating it. It isn’t a god, but it is powerful,” she responded. “And, while not saying there is no such thing as the Light, it’s a lot easier to see nature,” she pointed out. “Don’t forget what the druids did to save us all from the famine that hit us ten years ago.” It was true; without their help, we would not have been able to grow the crops we had needed to survive. It was after that that King Greymane began sending ships out to trade.
“I guess…” I trailed off. I couldn’t deny that she seemed to be incredibly attuned with the forest. “Maybe I just can’t see it like you can, but it just seems…”
Suddenly, her ears perked up and her back stiffened, so I fell silent. “Did you see that?” she whispered, eyes dead-set on the forest.
I followed her gaze, but there was nothing there. If only there was more sunlight. All I could see was shadow. “No, what was it?”
“I’m not sure. I saw something moving between the trees. I couldn’t get a good look at it. It was big, though.” She stood up. “We should check it out.” Before I could respond, she began jogging down the slope towards the trees, tail waving around behind her.
With a sigh, I stood, brushed myself off and followed her. I found her knelt down to the ground just a little ways in to the tree line. “Did you find something?” I asked.
“Take a look at this,” she invited. I knelt down beside her.
What in the… There were large paw tracks in the dirt; bigger even than Gwen’s paws when she was in her cat form. One of the strangest things was that there were only two of them at a time, as if whatever made them were bipedal. “What could have made these?” I wondered aloud.
Gwen’s ears were drawn back. “Nothing good,” she responded. “Nothing natural.” A shiver ran down my spine. I trusted that Gwen knew what sort of creatures inhabited this forest, but this was something she had never seen before.
“Should we go tell the guards?” I suggested, growing uneasy. I felt confident I could handle myself if attacked by people, but I had no idea how I would compare to whatever this thing was.
“No; this may be our chance. Let’s follow the tracks and see if we can find out whatever this thing is,” she responded resolutely. “Come on.” With that, she transformed completely into the large predatory cat form that she liked so much.
As we made our way deeper into the woods, I had a growing feeling that we were being watched again. I kept seeing movement out of the corner of my eyes, but when I turned to look, nothing was there. Maybe the wind was playing tricks on my mind. Gwen kept herself low to the ground, following the strange paw prints. Every so often, she would stop, raise her head and sniff the air with her powerful nose. Then she would look up at me and jerk her head in some direction, telling me to follow.
I don’t know how long we were tracking the creature. It had to have been hours. What dim light there was from the overcast day began to wane and it was evident that night was coming. We still hadn’t found the beast and I definitely did not want to be hunting it in the dark. “We should head back,” I breathed, just loudly enough for her to hear with her huge ears.
Gwen stopped. Does that mean she agrees? She gave the slightest of nods forward. I stared ahead, just able to make out a motionless lump on the ground up ahead. Is that it? Carefully, we crept closer.
As we closed in, it became clear this wasn’t the thing we were tracking, soon discovering it to be a dead stag. Gwen turned herself back into her human form, leaving her ears and tail. “What happened to you?” she asked the corpse mournfully, kneeling down beside it and gently laying a hand on its head.
She’s not kidding! It was completely torn apart, its innards hanging out; ripped to shreds by whatever had killed it. I’d never seen claw wounds run that deep and the unceremonious evisceration was not something I was familiar with, either. I wracked my brain, trying to think of any one of the natural predators that inhabited the forest that could have done something like this to a creature so large.
A chilling howl arose above the wind, echoing through the trees. It was unlike anything I’d ever heard before. I couldn’t tell how close it was, but it was soon joined by others. Are these things in the forest with us? I pulled out my sword, ready to defend myself. But will it be enough?
She stood up, wiping a tear from her eye. “We…we need to go…Get to the city; we’ll be safe there,” Gwen stated gravely. Again, a strong chill ran down my spine. If she was this spooked, I should be downright terrified.
She transformed into a cat and we ran south together. The wind whipped at my ears, dampening the noise, but I could still hear the howling. It sounded angry; bloodthirsty. I clutched my rapier with all of my strength, certain my knuckles were turning white. Gwen kept pace with me; I knew she could go faster, and she should have to make sure she could get out safely. I thought about telling her to do so, but I didn’t want her to abandon me. Shadows danced around us as we rushed past the dark trees. I couldn’t be certain if there was actually movement, but I didn’t stop to check. Just keep moving.
Off in the distance, I could hear the emergency bells from Keel Harbor clanging. My stomach twisted painfully. Daniel…Had the harbor come under attack? Be safe. I had to keep telling myself I would see him again. None of us are going to die tonight! Despite my resolve, tears of worry began to form in my eyes.
Finally, we burst from the tree-line and sprinted for the still-open gates to the city. As we closed in, we could see the heavy iron gate starting to descend. No, they can’t lock us out. I forced my legs to move faster.
We were only fifty yards from the gate when it was half-way closed. I yelled out for them to stop, but it kept moving. I couldn’t possibly move faster without tripping. It’s going to be close. We made it to the archway and Gwen leapt forward as I dove, soaring underneath the gate just as it crashed into the ground.
I saw Gwen instantly transform into her normal self as we skidded and rolled across the cobblestone inside of the Cathedral District.
“By the Light, are you two alright?” a guard asked, running up to us. He clutched his rifle so firmly his arms were shaking.
Panting heavily, I began to rise. My legs were shaking from exertion. “Are you fucking cork-brained? How…how did you not see us?” I gasped, trying to catch my breath.
Gwen put a shaking hand on my shoulder. “We’re fine,” she responded quietly.
“I’m sorry, Miss, but we got orders from our lieutenant to close the gates immediately. We couldn’t stop it,” the guard informed us. “It’s a good thing you made it through.”
“Why? Why the order?” I questioned, still quite irritated they almost locked us out. That means…they’re abandoning the harbor? I suddenly felt an immense surge of sympathy for Crowley’s outrage over the abandonment of towns north of the wall. He’ll be okay…he can defend himself…he has to be okay.
He shook his head. “I don’t rightly know. There are reports of intruders to the north. You should get to the Merchant Square. Prince Liam is organizing an evacuation of all Gilnean citizens to the southern end of the Peninsula while we get this sorted out,” the guard advised.
“We will; thank you,” Gwen thanked. She tightened her grip on my shoulder. “Let’s go, Naomi. There will be time for rest later,” she whispered as calmly as she could muster into my ear.
I nodded and we left the guard standing there, heading east towards the bridge into the Merchant Square. We could hear the howls. They sounded close.
As we reached the bridge, something fell from the sky in front of us, landing in a dark heap on the ground. Slowly, it began to move and stood up, squaring its shoulders towards us.
My eyes widened in fear. The beast was shrouded in shadow; I could only make out its silhouette. But it was huge, probably standing at about seven feet. Its legs were oddly shaped, and its monstrous hands ended in razor-sharp-looking claws. It was hunched over, with its head level to its broad, muscular shoulders. I could see its eyes; they almost glowed with a wild rage as it stared us down.
“What in the hell is that thing?” I breathed. Gwen just shook her head, possibly unable to find the words to describe it.
It took a step forward onto the bridge, the claws on its pawed feet clicking on the stone, and passed into the dim light from the moon. The creature was covered in thick fur and had a long mane behind its head with long, uneven hair. Its snout was long and housed a row of massive fangs. Even from beneath the thick coat, I could see its defined musculature. The claws on the end of its hands glimmered a bit in the faint light.
A wicked snarl gurgled up from its throat. It bent down, placing its front claws on the ground. Then, it reared up, released a deafening, eerie howl before charging at us, propelling itself forward with an inhuman speed on all fours.
My mind hadn’t finished processing what was going on, but my body reacted instinctively. I dodged to the side, unsheathing my sword and slicing upwards. The creature let out a pained yelp and crumpled to the street. We turned to stare at it. It was still breathing and looked like it was trying to get up. It began let out agonized whimpers and howls, as if calling for help.
“We should go,” Gwen advised. “I don’t want to be here if more of them show up.”
I shook my head. “Neither do I.” I didn’t sheath my weapon, certain I would need it again. We backed away before turning and running along. “Have you ever seen anything like that?” I asked her.
“Never…could you feel that thing’s anger? It wasn’t natural…it’s some kind of abomination,” she muttered. “It could stand on two paw…I’ve never seen a worg that could stand on two paws…What was that?” She looked like she was having a meltdown.
Suddenly, the bells started ringing all over Gilneas City. We were officially under attack. Gwen and I picked up our pace and made our way to the marketplace.
There’s still a chance. We’re going to make it…
Mind of Malm 