Thunder cracked through the black of the night sky. For a moment the forest’s morose gloom was dissipated, only to be submerged once more in darkness. The soldier trudged onwards through the mud and murk of the trail, trying her hardest to withstand the winds and pouring rain.
Copper red strands of wet hair stuck to the girl’s freckled face, spattered with bits of earth and blood. Her thin frame carried a rusted chainmail hauberk and a tattered surcoat fastened over it. Any allegiances the cloth bore were hidden, stained by layers of filth.
She wanted to stop. Her legs were ready to give way at any moment; two and a half years of regimented marching never came close to the stabbing pain she felt now. Warm blood trickled it’s way down her leg, mixing with the muddled mash of mud now filling her boots.
The sounds of the storm gave way to a newer, deeper roll of thundering noise. Hooves. She looked behind and saw a faint glow in the distance. It must be scouting party she thought, searching for any survivors that may have abandoned the fight.
She looked up and down the hill the path cut through, desperately searching for cover and finding none.
A whispering voice cut through wind and rain.
“This way…”
The words echoed in her head. It’s source was nowhere to be seen, but Elizabeth knew where to go. Down the muddy hill she slid, slowing to a stop near an outcrop of rocks. Before her was a small crevice, just large enough for her to squeeze through. She tugged when her armor got caught between the rocks. A few rusted rings tore off as she broke free. Past the initial opening was a small den large enough to move around in. The soldier threw her back against the wall and slid down into a sitting position, trying her best to catch her breath. She took the opportunity to bind up her leg, trying her hardest to stop the bleeding. Her stomach gurgled, demanding to be fed. She hadn't eaten in two days.
Everything froze when the thundering hooves grew louder once more. The world grew still. No wind nor rain met her ears. Just the pounding noise.
*Thud THUD-a thud THUD-a thud THUD-a thud THUD*
The sound slowed to a halt. For a moment, Liz thought she might be safe. The hope soon passed when she heard shouting from outside the cave, something about footprints. They’re talking about her. She knew it.
Her heart started racing as she began to panic. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t all end like this!
“This way…”
The voice was back.
This time she knew where it came from. The cave went deeper. She followed with careful footsteps, making sure she didn’t leave a trail. The deeper she went, the quieter things became. Liz stopped when the tunnel lead her to a small chamber. Surrounding her were more tunnel entrances which lead deeper into the network of stone corridors. With the voice's guidance, she picked a tunnel and kept moving. Deeper down she was met with yet another set of branching caves. And another one after that. After what felt like ages she reached a dead end. There was no way they’d find her here.
Echoing down the cave was the sound of someone talking. She could barely make it out, but by their accents she could tell they weren’t from Bitemarsh. The voices squabbled back and forth before deciding someone should take a look around.
The pitter-patter of wet feet bounced around before stopping dead in their tracks. Liz held her breath, slowly reaching for her dagger.
“This place is a goddamned maze! I’m not fucking with this place guys!”
“You’re the only one who can fit in there asshole! I swear to Aldir you halflings are all fucking useless!”
“Well I’m not about to get lost and fucking die over some deserter! Eat shit Lance!”
The arguing continued from outside the cave. The girl waited in the silent darkness for them to leave, only to remain there frozen for even longer. Minutes passed by and the muffled sound of horse’s ran over the earth. Liz relaxed and took a deep breath, free to finally stop and rest, maybe even get a bite to eat. Until she heard it again.
“This way…”
She lit a torch to help her see and turned to look behind her. It was a door, older than Bitemarsh itself by the looks of it. Odder yet, it wasn’t there before. With caution she pulled the ancient door open and peered inside.
It was a small man-made chamber with odd carvings on the walls. Perhaps they held some sort of historical importance but she was no scholar. In the center of the room sat an iron chest.
Gold. Silver. Platinum. Jewels of every color. In the center of it all was a strange looking book. It’s cover was pitch black and decorated with strange symbols. She felt drawn to it in some way, almost like it was meant for her. Dust filled the air when she opened the ancient tome and flipped through. It was all in some strange language she could not read, with symbols she’d never seen before. She passed it off as a strange collectors item she could hang on to. Maybe even find someone who can read the damned thing.
If anything, Liz knew one thing for certain; life would never be the same again.
------------
Where does this tale take us next?
A Trip to the Market Square: Liz takes her newfound riches to the market to be appraised.
A Night of Revelry: Liz decides to start her new life off with a bang and buys everyone drinks.
Living in Luxury: Enough of the nitty gritty. Let's see what life is like for Elizabeth a few months later.
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