It was slightly beyond noon when the pair entered the Jakara Woods, a long stretch of trees from west to east to where they stop at the cliffside looking down at Domon Valley. A lush woodland of evergreens that many adventurers have lost their way over the ages, now marked on both sides of trees with carved circles by daggers, axes, or other blades. The road was continued through it nearly half a century ago to help ensure even the most clueless of travelers could navigate it in this age and should travelers remain on it, their safety would be ensured assuming of course the monsters that lurk within are kept at bay or disposed of.

  The evergreen needles littered ground as they crunched under Lylen’s boots and Gunnolf’s wooden sandals known as geta made a softer step. Branches more than ten paces above made for excellent shade against the high sun with the treetops being another twenty or more above those. Trickles of light granted enough vision as the pair stayed on the padded down dirt road. A wagon was ahead, heading their way. The creature pulling it wasn’t a galcudos this time, instead it stood upright on two legs like a man but nearly twelve feet in height adorned in a custom made open leather coat and britches of a blue color despite a couple of holes at the knees. As the figure stepped closer with the cedar carved wagon, Gunnolf and Lylen noticed they had a single eye center of their forehead.

  “A Pygmy Cyclops,” Lylen muttered incredulously.

  Gunnolf and Lylen stood off to one side to let the wagon pass, but it stopped nearby. At the top of the wagon sat its driver, draped in a red cloak and their voice was feminine but weathered with age and it almost squeaked and creaked. “Good day travelers! Per chance would you two be interested in some of my wares?” Despite her facing them, her face was entirely hidden by the hood of her cloak, but her hands were like dark oak in color and even the texture of a living tree Gunnolf was sure.

  “What wares do you carry madam?” Lylen asked as Gunnolf crossed his arms as if he was patiently waiting for the day to pass by.

  The cloaked woman rose to her feet and despite her crackling voice she moved gracefully as she grabbed the rail of the top of the wagon and slid down to open some of the doors on the side of the wagon open. “I have healing gels, potions, various medicines and even nice accessories like rings and bracelets!”

  Lylen browsed the woman’s wares, looking over the consumable items, various herbs and berries, and a few potions as the vendor mentioned, but Lylen’s eyes glittered when they fell upon the rings and bracelets.

  Gunnolf remained composed as he muttered, “I thought you had no money?”

  Lylen glared back at him, eyes smoldering, as her ears picked up on the words, “I do have something to trade at least!” she barked.

  “Something to trade?” the woman asked with a tinge of excitement to her voice.

  Lylen procured a glimmering stone from her pouch, the size of her palm and vibrant pink. “I have this, how much do you think it’s worth?”

  The red cloaked merchant took it in her hand, her bark like flesh carefully taking it and gazing at it with downcast eyes. “An arcane stone. Worth about one hundred Zoa given the state of the economy between Illisea and the Low Lands these days.”

  “That’s all?” Lylen said disappointingly.

  The merchant thumbed a ring of dark metal with a copper circle embedded into and pressed it into Lylen’s palm. “If you accept this trade, I accept,” the merchant said.

  Lylen’s eyes flickered with excitement. “Really? But what does this do?” she looked over it carefully as she felt every ridge and crevice in the craftsmanship.

  The old woman chuckled. “It’s made with onyx and copper. Said to enhance the wearer’s luck and has an effect on the element of shadow. Sadly, corpses can’t give details,” her laugh grew.

  Lylen smiled uneasily. “Th-thank you, uhh─”

  “Reindra,” the woman introduced herself. “I’m sure we’ll meet again deary and thank you for your patronage.” Reindra got atop her wagon once more and within moments it was heading south out of the forest.

  Gunnolf and Lylen continued their journey north, deeper into the woods. The canopy overhead let in sunlight in scattered arrays like broken glass adding serenity everywhere they looked. Lylen kept trying to engage Gunnolf with conversation about her ring and what he thought of Reindra but the kobold was silent at best and cleared his throat at the worst showing disinterest in conversation. The road sloped downward into a clearing that had a fallen evergreen to their left when frustration bubbled in the elf woman.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “The least you could do is say something in response to whatever I speak of,” Lylen said contemptuously. “When those bandits attacked us a while back, were you simply showing off with that short sword behind your belt? You could’ve ended the fight quicker with your long blade I bet.”

  “No,” the kobold said plainly before he continued his pace.

  Lylen crossed her arms in frustration, “Might as well be alone on this journey with how much you conversate.”

  It would be another two hours before they should be leaving the woods, but his patience was steadfast and deep like a still pond. The ground beneath his feet shifted abruptly he stopped. “Hold,” was his only word as his arm extended out in her path; her steps came to an abrupt stop.

  The ground rippled and spiraled as something burrowed under the soil almost like it was water instead of earth. Gunnolf left his blade sheathed but his hand remained near the black and gold hilt. Lylen readied her daggers as she saw the soil shift now too.

  Release the blade, make it taste flesh once more. Seventeen more deaths by its edge is all that remains. The voice pried at Gunnolf’s mind, his hand twitched.

  The ground stopped. The pair waited, the ground erupting from behind them as clods of dirt blew over their shoulders and instinctively, Gunnolf spun to his right with his blade sliding from its sheathe while Lylen stumbled over herself. The green-blue blade meeting a white mandible wider than the kobold’s arm. Deep green scales layered the flesh of the serpentine creature as it stared at him, three eyes, each diamond shaped in a triangle formation above that pair of mandibles and ravenous fangs behind them. Gunnolf leaped away as the monster reared back for a charge.

  Regaining her footing, Lylen sent two daggers flying at the creature, one stuck into its side while the second bounced off the scales.

  “Get back!” Gunnolf barked. “Jakara Wyrms are relentless if you draw their attention!” The wyrm slid by him again before diving underground, all fifteen paces in length of it slithered ahead.

  Gunnolf spread his feet and patiently waited for the next moment it would spring up, with a leap straight up, the wyrm came up from where he was standing intending to snap him in half at the waist. Gunnolf struck downward as both he and the wyrm descended once more. With a roar both of them hit the ground, the wyrm on its side and Gunnolf landing on his feet darted at the creature for a killing strike.

  Yes! Kill!

  The blade collided with the mandible again, as sparks flew from metal meeting bone a crack appeared in it as the wyrm screeched and the two moved past each other. The wyrm began thrashing itself around sending out spores to fill the air from inlets between its scales. Gunnolf gave a leap back out of range.

  Lylen flung another dagger, this time the blade stabbed into one of the inlets releasing the spores as all other inlets shut but the creature turned its attention on her.

  “Fool!” Gunnolf roared at her as the wyrm dived under the soil once more.

  Feet as fast as lightning, Gunnolf darted for Lylen. The ground rippled toward her as the kobold was losing the race.

  Kill it now! That voice scratched in his skull and the blade in his hand wanted to end this monster’s life.

  Lylen ran to her left to climb the toppled evergreen, barely scrambling on it when the wyrm shot up from under it sending it to fling up, trunk first which sent the young elf airborne! Gunnolf gave a leap with his blade, slicing across its scales the creature roared as blood spluttered. Landing on one knee the kobold twisted to face his opponent. The wyrm thrashed a moment, sending blood everywhere. Gunnolf stood between the wyrm and Lylen now, but with a swift motion, the creature descended back into the underground where it came from. The black furred man slid his curved blade back into the sheathe at his side once more, eyes were downcast.

  Lylen was on her back on the ground more or less than fifteen paces from where she was catapulted. Pain shot through her sides, and the air was still trying to return to her lungs once more. Before she could move to any real capacity, Gunnolf was standing over her, his fur obscuring his eyes, but she could feel the disappointment and annoyance coming from him.

  He extended his paw to help her up, “I’m sorry,” she said at last.

  There was no reply at first, she was brought to her feet, her sides and back trembled. “You…were to stay back,” he told her. He reached into his kamishimo and procured a translucent, half-spherical medicine known as a clear gel an alchemical creation meant for healing minor injuries and wounds. “Use this.”

  She pressed it to her lower back, it would still ache, but the pain would begin to dull in moments. “Thank you,” she said in embarrassment. “That monster wasn’t here when I crossed through here the other day,” she insisted as she collected two of her throwing daggers once more.

  Gunnolf took in the surroundings before taking strides toward the north once more. “Jakara Wyrms, despite being native here are not often encountered by travelers, like most wyrms they seek aether springs to feed from in the deep underground. When they are encountered, they are known to annihilate entire caravans with their aggressive nature,” he said flatly.

  Lylen’s jaw was agape, “And you just took one on by yourself!” she said in amazement.

  “And it lived,” he added dryly. She began walking ahead of him as he felt that voice gnaw at him again.

  Sixteen more lives to end. Sixteen souls is all that is needed. Who is next?