Delti’s tears fell upon the lands while holding her dead beloved in her arms for three months. From that year forth, the rains came and flooded the land reminding all of her loss for three months.

The Book of Delti

Morning of the Day of Haste in the Month of Seed.

Rainy, Dark, and Storming, Cool air. Winds Strong from the North.

The rain is whipping around the men as they trudge through the mud that clings to everything. The men were nervous as they lead their frighten horses through the storm that battle around them, the air was filled with lights and noises as if the gods were doing battle. The mid-day seem like dusk from the dense storm cloud that keeps broiling in from the sea blocking the sun. Swearing and cursing could be heard between the thunder and the frighten horses neighing as the men pull on the tack of their horses trying to pull a cover wagon through the muck and mud. Its wheels digging deep into the mud as the team of four draft horses labor at pulling the wagon out of the soupy mud. Several more men were helping to push the wagon whenever the horses strain as the wheels bog down. The fear and sweat of the horses only make the situation even more dangerous every time the lightning flashes, and the thunder rumble around them. A large figure stumbles down from the wagon falling into the mud and staggers as he races forward yelling into the storm.

“Captain! He is getting worse! We need to find shelter soon, or he is not going to make it!” the heavyset man yelled. Fryer Roberts tries to wipe off the foul-smelling mud off his hands and face even bending over to use the water in a puddle to wash his hands trying not to fall over as a large gust of wind almost tips him forward. The Fryer straighten up frowning at the tall man before him, a mercenary, to say the least, shocking that such a man would escort the young lord. His eyes narrow to take in the grizzle appearance of the mercenary captain that stood a good six feet tall wearing black stain leather and a leather broad brim hat. On the man, right hip is a rapier and a dagger strap to the outside of his right knee-high boot. It was the golden griffin embroider into the rain soak cape that spoke of the mercenary man band, The Golden Griffin famous for doing the impossible. For the Duke to afford such a man only spoke volumes on the seriousness of the situation. Still does not mean he likes it one bit to have such a man do what the Temple own guards could have done cheaper!

Captain Hendrick wipe the blowing rain from his face as he turns and stares down at the mud cover portly man standing before him. The fryer was assigned to be the boy's tutor and caretaker, and he looks to be at least fifty winters, the balding man is plump and seems to be soft and prissy. Fryer Roberts has been nothing but a pain in his ass since they got stuck with the duty to guard the young lordling in exile from the capital. Tipping his head forward as the rain fell from his wide-brim hat, he spat on the ground in front of the Fryer Roberts. The balding man with pocket mark skin shows disgust as he stares up at him.

“Scouts said there are some huts ahead,” nodding ahead of them. “About a few minutes up the road, I sent word to the headmaster of the village to find us a healer. If you have nothing else to say then get back there and watch over the young lord and stop nagging me.” turning away with irritant grimace on his bearded face and tugging his horse's rein to get it to follow him, leaving the fryer standing open mouth in the rain until lightning lite up the day followed by a thunderous crash. The fryer screech then whimpers as he slips and slides while running back to the wagon struggling to climb back inside as the horses rear in fright.

As the rest of the men were trying to calm down their beasts from the thunder, Captain Hendrick look over at his friend as he steps up next to him. “Shouldn't poke the bear, you know how much those gods-fearing uptights like to throw the heathen into their dungeons,” Jason says as he pushed back his leather hat as he stared at his captain.

“I care nothing for their holy asses if he was to one day happen to fall and break his neck. I will be sure to say a few words over his grave. That bastard not even a damn healer but some spoil rich class fryer that tied himself to the lordling to get access to his gold. I swore an oath to his uncle I would watch over his nephew, if the boy dies, it will be all of our heads.” David seethe.

Seeing movement in the rain ahead, “The scout is back.” Nodding forward as a man riding a horse appears out of the mist moving toward them. The scout reins in as the horse slid a little in the mud.

“Captain, the headmaster said there is a witch's hut to the south of us about halfway toward the village.” The lanky scout tried to wipe the rain that was blowing into his face. “He also said that the old hag is good at healing the body for a price. Her name is Rebekah.” Lightning struck a tree nearby as her name was spoken.

Once again the horses rear in panic as the thunderous explosion of sound roll over them. The men try to control their mounts as some of the horses break away from their riders that was trying to lead them. Those that escape ran off into the storm with the men chasing after them cussing.

“Haychet get that wagon to the healer! Now!” Hearing a roar of a Horror to the south and the panic scream of a horse.

Yelling again at the driver of the wagon.“Haychet! Go!”

“Leroy, you and Jimmy, guard the horses,” tossing his reins to the scout. “The rest of you get your blades out and follow me!” Hendrick shouts out over the roar and the whipping of the wind. It took them a few minutes to find the down horse as it gave out its final scream of pain before being cut off. They find a horror hunch over the carcass of the horse tearing into its throat as the rain mats everything in a stinky smell of iron and rot.

The Horror is slightly larger than man-size with several long tentacles for its arms. With two large red glowing eyes glaring at them as it was bent over the horse with its tentacles grip around the horse's neck as it mouth grinds into the horse as it drinks its the blood.

Grayson and Thomas fire their crossbows, both bolts slam into the neck of the beast, causing it to roar in pain. It raises itself onto its several large tentacles. Hendrick mutters under his breath as his sword began to glow then burst into flames. Leaping forward plunging the sword deep into its belly as his men move around him, yelling and stabbing at the beast to confuse it. Clorar got slam by a backhand from one of the tentacles that sent him flying into the rain. The creature gave off a roar that causes some of them to pause as a fear ripple through them. Hendrick rips up with his sword splitting open the Horror's stomach. The stench as the ichor and blood pour out of its guts. The smell nearly made a few of the men gag. Hendrick slip on the entrails barely being miss by a swipe of the beast claws. Thomas steps up and slams his hammer into the side of Horror's head the beast tentacles around its mouth move forward and snags Thomas' arm pulling it into its mouth, ripping into the meat as he screams. Hendrick pulls the blade out and slams it into the back of the skull piercing it brain causing it to drop pulling Thomas to the ground.

Getting Thomas trapped arm out of the Horror's mouth took a few moments, after putting a tourniquet on his arm to keeping him from bleeding out. Looking over the wound seeing that a lot of lower part of the arm was torn into, the only thing that saves him from losing the whole limb was the man's leather arm guard.

Captain Hendrick shout out, “Get the horses.” Staring down at the Horror as it smokes then burst into flames as it ashes blows away into the rain, Bending over and patting Thomas on the cheek, “Don't give up your job as a bowman, you suck using a sword.” Hendrick laugh. “We get you to the healer soon, Grayson! Help Thomas onto his horse and get him to the healer hut!”

He points at four of his men, “gut the horse and drag it to the village save some of the meat for us. Give the rest to the village and meet me back at the hut later. Clorar how you are feeling?”

“Bang-up sir, I think it bruises my ribs.” Clorar groan holding onto his chest.

“Someone help him onto my horse since he lost his. When you all done, meet me at the Witch's Huts, oh and hurry up never know if there is another horror around.” Hendrick took the reins from one of his men as they look around them nervous and lead the horse and the wounded man away down the road.

Captain Hendrick slosh through the inferno black mud that caked everything, it gave off a death stench that he has been breathing in since they cross into these curses lands, glancing back at the rider holding onto the saddle of the horse. In the three months since they started with fifty men and six wagons, only eleven men and women are left and one wagon. The trip was to take a month to travel, but the heavy winter and the thawing made the roads muddy and full of ruts, bandits took twenty-three of his men, eleven died from illness and five deserted. None of them understand why we were here. He still wondering if the deal he made was worth it.