The ground beneath Parth’s feet rumbled, the earth turning slick and soft. A horrific slurping sound came from the darkness, the leaves whispering and rustling as trees started to shake and shift, ground softening and turning doughy beneath her feet. Parth leapt upwards, scrabbling for a tree, pulling herself off the ground. In the darkness, even her keen senses had difficulty seeing far, but there was something in the darkness seething and hissing, pale moonlight reflecting off an oily mass oozing between the trees.

There was a shout from beneath her, one of the humans running and stumbling, falling to their feet as the earth lost its solidity. Another sickening, keening slurping sound came from the darkness, some force trying to push itself into Parth’s spirit. Her grip weakened for a moment as the slurping became a sweet song, trying to calm her, make her want to stop fighting, before she slammed her head against the tree, hard enough to hurt, and the true sound reasserted itself. Cyentanne was less fortunate, her running slowing to a stop as she was overcome with lassitude. Parth drew an arrow and fired into the darkness, aiming at the obscene glistening between the trees. There was an answering shriek, the arrow hopefully having achieved something.

Parth dropped down to a lower branch, just as a thick, viscous wad of mucous splashed against where she had been standing, acidic paste melting away the bark, a horrific scent wafting through the night air. She dropped again and landed behind one of the humans, backed up against a tree, their hands still bound by elven cord, wrists rubbed raw by their movements. They twitched and spun in panic, hands coming protectively; she grabbed their hands with one of her own, then sliced with an arrow, cutting their bindings.

‘Fight. Creature, destroy. Flee.’

The ground around them was already soft and slippery quicksand, threatening to swallow up Parth. She shoved the human away, pointing upwards – the trees were starting to tilt and lean as the ground beneath them turned to mush and paste, their own weight starting to topple them. An arrow fired through the night, Gweledydd launching his own attack.

Parth shouted. ‘Any idea what it is?’

It shrieked again, drowning out any response. Wincing against the sound, Parth leapt between trees, trying to get closer. A shape writhed on the ground – another of the humans, sunk up to their thighs in the ground, body writhing as they tried to pull themselves free. Even though she was closer now, figuring out the shape of the attacker was almost impossible – some rough shape, oily and gross, gleaming in the pale light as it moved, but without any obvious limbs or a head. The thing extruded part of itself into a weapon, a shining lash flicking out at her. Slow and clumsy, it was easy to dodge, but from the fragments of bark and wood that sprayed out where it hit the tree behind her, getting hit would be unpleasant.

There was another scream from below, the pain obvious despite the language barrier. What was it, some ancient spell-beast of her ancestors, maybe? Or some monster, from outside the forest, only here by accident? It seemed utterly uncontrolled, and damaging to the area around it, judging by the acid it was spewing, and how it melted the ground around itself. She fired an arrow into the loathsome mass, the arrow puncturing into the thing – had it done any damage? Flesh rippled, an eye suddenly forming from bare and mottled skin, staring at her for a moment, before it gibbered again, the same sickly-sweet sound as before, trying to entice and charm her. The stench was overpowering, a rank, sweaty musk coming off the thing, acrid and vile.

It rippled again, teeth, and then a tongue, huge and slobbering, appearing from the lump of its body, as a grotesquely oversized mouth formed, wet with acidic slobber. The pulsing hulk of the creature’s body seethed and broiled, the stench intensifying as it yowled and gibbered, another thick wad of acid splashing against a nearby tree. Droplets of it fell onto Parth, burning her skin. She plucked several leaves off a tree, rubbing them against the burn, easing the pain somewhat.

Another arrow thudded into it, the thick tongue flicking around, the yelling now seeming pained. The human was now sunk up to their chest, arms flailing as they fought to stay above the surface. Parth drew her sword, as another lash struck out – she tried to block, the impact jarring her, as it wrapped around her sword, the touch of it burning her skin. She switched hands and sliced it off, the foul skin dropping to the ground, the grass burning and melting wherever it touched.

The tree she was on started to tilt faster, falling over and giving her a chance to leap over to another, running along that, then leaping onto a boulder, still stable amongst the shifting earth. A mass of the warped, corrupted flesh was next to her, an easy target, her blade biting deep with a splash of tainted blood. She flicked her blade clean, careful to avoid any of it running onto her, the creature oozing away, out of reach, a giant eye staring in her direction.

The human shouted something, probably curses or begging for their life. They saw Parth, waving their arms and yelling more. She drew her arm back and threw her sword. It stuck into the quivering mound, diseased and discoloured blood oozing out from the wound. Despite the language barrier, she shouted. She couldn’t get closer herself without risking getting engulfed, and he was in the perfect position to attack, at least if he stayed calm.

‘Use it! Start slicing!’ She gestured, making cutting and slicing movements, before snapping a branch of the tree and whispering a spell, magic flashing over the wood and toughening it. She jumped forward, landing next to the monstrosity, smacking at it with the club. The thing had a tough hide, turning her first strike, before her second ripped through, the skin ripping apart, a mashed and twisted tooth appearing beneath the wound, the creature an unnatural, misshapen abomination of mutant growth. Another eye appeared and stared at her for a moment, before a mouth formed from the wound, obscenely red lips flecked with acidic spittle, body rippling as it spat out another wad of acid.

This close, Parth couldn’t dodge in time, the burning goo splashing onto her armour and her skin, etching marks into the stiffened leather and burning her exposed flesh. She twisted, trying to flick it off, as the thing juddered and screamed again. Parth glanced down, to see the human, having regained some measure of their wits, now hacking away, enchanted blade easily slicing through the creature’s flesh. The thing stank, reek getting even worse as tainted blood spilled onto the ground. Parth attacked again, as two arrows flew through the night, sticking into it, more blood pouring down onto the ground.

The tree Parth was in shook and quaked, making her stumble and fall. She twisted, managing to barely avoid another lashing tendril as she fell onto the corrupted ground. She began to sink into it, the stuff like quicksand, snaring her legs, threatening to pull her down. At least this close, it couldn’t move to spit acid at her, but a vast mouth was forming, threatening to bite her. She struck it with her club, scoring another line into the bulk, the stench of rancid meat now overpowering.

It was shrieking in pain now, the human carving away chunks of mutant flesh. The ground was still swallowing her up, cold and dry around her, clinging to her thighs as she sunk deeper and deeper in. It spasmed and twitched, strands of flesh forming into lashes and tendrils, flailing towards her. She tried to throw herself out of the way, the twisted earth binding her in place and trapping her. Strands wrapped around her, biting into her flesh, burning through her armour, tightening and squeezing, trying to crush her, even as the creature squealed and flailed, gibbering and squealing. She smashed at it with her club, managing to wrest an arm free, but having little effect.

It kept constricting, her armour breaking under the stress, ribs creaking, vision starting to blur. She struck it again, smashing another long dent into it, the shapes inside warping and shifting even faster, cancerous growths of teeth, bone and muscle mutating out of the stumpy, twisted mass. It screeched and gibbered again, as Parth fumbled and struck again with the last of her strength, even as her vision faded, air pushed from her lungs, too constricted to breath, green fading to black.

A soft sweetness brushed against her lips, then into her mouth. Reflexively, she swallowed, feeling a gentle tingle of vitality flow into her. She opened her eyes, wincing as pain returned. Her ribs were on fire, one of her arms felt battered and sore, but she was alive. Somehow. Another berry was pressed against her lips, and she swallowed again, the pain easing, just a little.

She opened her eyes, blinking away dancing lights. Gweledydd was above her, carefully feeding her another berry from a small jar. Behind them was Cyentanne, sword at the ready, held straight and level. The humans were stood a short distance away, having managed to arm themselves, one with Parth’s sword, the others with branches being used as clubs.

She forced herself to stand, glad that her legs, at least were uninjured, checking her other wounds – her arms and chest were both battered and sore, but it didn’t feel like anything that would kill her, at least not immediately. As she did so, Gweledydd took his bow in hand, readying an arrow and pointing it at the humans. Angry shouts filled the air, as the humans readied to fight, but were unwilling to take the first move, when that would likely result in one of them getting shot. Parth held her hands up, showing that she was unarmed, as Cyentanne tried to stare them down, despite having several injuries herself.

‘What happened? Where’s the monster?’

Cyentanne pointed to one side without turning to look, where there was a reeking mass of putrid flesh, now sinking in on itself, tainted blood seeping into the now-solid ground. Now dead, whatever magic had allowed it to retain a shape had faded, meaning it was left as nothing more than a rotting, cancerous mass of flesh and bone, giant malformed bones slowly emerging from beneath the warped skin.

‘Now the humans are being threatening. I’m pretty sure we can take them, but we didn’t want to risk anything while you were down. And one of them has stolen your sword.’

Parth nodded, taking another slow step forward, staring at the one with the tattoo, and now with her sword as well. He was holding it in a loose but competent grip, clearly in some level of pain, one of his legs wet and dark with blood, most of his weight on his back leg. If it came to a fight, then bows would clearly be the best, as the humans looked in little position to move, or defend themselves against arrows. His comrades were more injured, one having to lean on a tree for support, both wielding nothing more than some sticks they had found. Still, murdering them seemed likely to cause further problems, and killing someone that had aided her in a fight seemed discourteous.

‘Peace. Other enemies, aid and flee.’ She repeated it several times, louder each time, hoping she had the words right. They looked unconvinced, but also tired and weary.

He held the sword up, levelling it at her, gabbling something at her, shaking the sword for emphasis, something about ‘demons’? Cyentanne spoke from behind her, providing a partial translation. ‘They’re accusing you of summoning the creature, that you want to sacrifice them to the forest.’

‘Why would I do that? I nearly died myself!’ She took another slow step forward, staring into the human’s eyes – he might be willing to fight, but didn’t seem keen to strike down someone unarmed, fortunately for her. One of the others shivered slightly and whimpered in pain, their entire arm and most of their chest red-raw and bloody, where acid had burnt away at their flesh. She kept her gaze straight, looking into the leader’s eyes as she stroked a nearby bush, whispers of green energy flickering around the leaves. Berries grew from it, each bright, vivid red. Still moving slowly, she took one, and made a show of squashing one, rubbing it into her skin. A thin red line, remnant of the creature’s attack, faded, to be replaced with a sticky paste from the berry.

She stepped forward again, past the tattooed man, listening for the whisper of steel, the hint of any movement that might presage violence. She squashed another berry between her fingers, carefully rubbing it onto the man’s chest. It seemed to ease the pain slightly, or at least he gave a nod of what was hopefully thanks. Although he looked in no shape for further adventure – his injuries needed healing, far more than Parth could supply herself. She repeated the same action with several more berries, trying to ease his pain.

That done, she turned back to the leader, finding her own blade levelled against her. ‘Aid, not harm.’

If they wanted them dead, then they already would be! And in the woods, their bodies would never be found, just another source of food for scavengers, joining themselves to the forest forevermore as their bodies rotted into the soil. It was a tempting thought, to jump back and let arrows find their mark, but they’d manage to come this far together. And she was curious about seeing a human settlement.

She spoke as soothingly as she could, her hands still held in a position of peace, still trying to ensure there was a clear line of sight between Cyentanne and the man, just in case this went wrong. ‘Other monsters. Not safe. Flee, live, need guide.’

In the woods, another gibbering sound started, uncomfortably close by. Another one of those things? One had been a close fight, they probably couldn’t survive another. The leader’s gaze shifted to the side, as he shifted slightly. Parth held her hand up, signalling not to shoot, resisting the urge to try and grab the sword from his hand as he was distracted. This close, he could just grab her back, even if his injuries slowed him enough that she wouldn’t just get stabbed.

Somewhere nearby, a tree collapsed to the ground, then another, loud crashes getting closer. A breeze blew, bringing it with a rank stench. Parth tried to stay calm while conveying urgency. ‘Move, live. Stay, die.’

The injured man whimpered in pain, managing to stagger to his feet, and speak something to the leader. From how pale he looked, he must be more badly injured than Parth had thought. They spoke in short, urgent tones, interspersed with groans of pain. The leader said something back, before glaring at Parth, moving the blade slightly away, so it was no longer pointed at her throat.

‘Guide.’

Parth nodded. ‘Cyentanne, Gweledydd, we’re leaving. If they betray us, shoot them.’

While explaining the threat was beyond her, having two bows aimed at them should make it obvious. Another gibbering howl sounded and was answered, more of the beasts moving towards them, as Parth started to guide them through the forest.