Chapter 8: I Spy

Chapter 8: I Spy

“I spy something... silver,” Jude said, together with Glenny and Leland.

The boys walked alongside a nine cart caravan, plenty of mounts, and more than a few Lords of Mercantile. Together, their party walked the long and twisting dirt roads, heading through the forest of Pinefield on route to Liontrunk.

“Is it Leland?” Glenny asked.

Jude snorted. “He’s a Silver, not silver.”

It had been a long and slow last few days, but that was expected this time of year. Mating season this time of year left the predators in the area continuously hunting, oftentimes settling on prey that would not normally be their preference. So, they were unlikely to encounter anything other than Trihoof Wolves – and even then, no pack of wolves would attack such a large caravan.

No, the boys were simply around in case something bizarre happened. Which, in Jude’s case, he wished would happen soon.

“My daggers?” Glenny asked, continuing the game.

Jude rolled his eyes. “Nope.”

The caravan was just reaching the edge of the forest when this particular round of “I Spy” started. The trees were becoming less frequent, the grass was turning dry, the ambient temperature was warming. They were nearing the border of the Dill Savannah, gnoll country.

“The buckle on that leather strap right there?” Leland asked, pointing to the adjacent cart.

“Ah man! That’s correct.”

A whistle came from the front coach, signaling the caravan to stop. Soon the workers pulled out seats and pots, lunch was on its way. Today’s menu consisted of dried meat reconstituted in boiling salted water and boiled vegetables. Suffice it to say, the boys were not excited about the meal.

“Your turn, Glenny,” Jude said.

The rogue scanned his eyes over the horizon, no doubt picking something along the backdrop of nature. “I spy... something... brown.”

Both Jude and Leland stared at their friend.

“Brown? Really? That’s like anything. That tree, those roots, the patch of dirt over there. Maybe that weird mound thing right there?”

“Ah! You got it! That mound thing!”

Jude only blinked.

Leland sighed, his gaze looking out across the slowly distancing trees. They were over two thirds of the way to Liontrunk and hadn’t seen a single battle. Truthfully, Leland thought Gilbert’s caution a bit strange. The lack of monsters truly put the rank of the quest into question.

But then his eyes fell on an old man, one of the leaders of the caravan. His leg was set in a splint, having been broken only three days into the trip. At the time, Leland had offered his ring of regeneration until his bone was fully set, but the man waved him off stating, “I’ll get to ride in the wagon if it stays broken. Thanks anyways, Sonny.”

The gnoll’s animalistic bipedal body bled from the sudden assault, the crows doing more than just superficial damage. They ripped at the monster’s skin, pulling full chunks of flesh with their razor sharp beaks. They ripped into the shoulders and elbows, severing tendons and creating terror.

Some of the other gnolls tried to help, but the crow’s small ethereal bodies only proved impossible to touch. Crude weapons passed through their wings, slipping through harmlessly and only causing more panic.

Then Jude arrived.

He came in full force, swinging his axe without a care in the world. His plated armor was dyed red, his boots covered in bits of flesh. He laughed and laughed, his eyes long having glazed over in the glory of battle.

Glenny made his mark, striking the gnolls who tried to retreat. He expertly dispatched those he neared, stabbing where his Legacy told him. Critical areas, spines, hearts, brains, throats, anything the Legacy of Chameleons deemed necessary.

Meanwhile, Leland didn’t sit idle. His crows batted down their target until the gnoll was nothing more than a mangled corpse of torn skin and bleeding welts, while he himself took on a support role.

“Fracture, fracture, fracture, fracture,” he repeated like a broken record.

Gnolls, mainly the ones Jude was battling, yelped in surprise pain, some even crumbling to the grassy floor. Cracks and pops echoed through the clearing, each successful curse breaking something in the enemy fleet.

The last of the gnolls died with a throwing knife to the back originating from Glenny. The sudden stoppage of battle made Jude groan.

“Ah man!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t realize how many cuts I was receiving.”

Leland sighed, slipping off his parent’s ring of regeneration. He handed it to his meat head friend. “You really need to get a handle on that. Some damages can’t be healed.”

Jude smiled, his eyes falling a bit. “Yeah... my mother said the same thing last time we sparred.”

That made Glenny speak up. “You two sparred?”

“It was before my Dream Ceremony, but yes. Even back then I forwent light injuries for tempo and leverage. Now, it’s just a bonus.”

Leland raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you keep that ring until we can find you one? I think you are going to need it a lot more than me.”

Jude smirked at that, pulling back his shirt a bit. “Already got one. It’s not a ring of regeneration but rather a tattoo of regeneration.”

Glenny’s eyes went wide. “Aren’t those super expensive? How much did your folks spend?”

“Not-a-gold. Favor or repayment or something from a Legacy of Runes.”

The tattoo in question was quite different from a Legacy tattoo. Besides simply being on his chest, the tattoo of regeneration was called a “body augment.” The runic glyphs and circles of power only did one thing, increase regeneration over his entire body. It was man made, in other words, not created or gifted from any Lord.

“Wait,” Leland said, his eyebrows furling. “Give me back my ring!"