Hero's Quest: A One-Shot

A Journey through the Woods

The sun begins rising high into the sky, pushing its undying light past spindly branches and casting shadowy fingers that crawl through the trees. Somewhere in the distance a pair of small animals scamper across the fallen leaves and dense colourless grass.

"Are we ready to go?" the leader grumbled while running a wrinkly hand down his long silvery beard. Dressed in ashen robes and matching pointed hat, he exuded as much life and colour as the weary forest itself.

"All packed," grunts the largest member of the party. Her burgundy hair flows over the animal furs that decorate her neck. She wears thick hiking boots, leather slacks and a ragged shirt over her rustic grey skin. A great-axe resting on one muscular shoulder, a backpack slung over the other.

"All appears calm," noted the tall thin scout perching at the cave's only entrance. The white ponytail sitting between the bow and quiver on his back making the world beyond the cave more accessible to his pointy ears.

"Then let's go already," the leader snorted, sweeping past his elven ally.

"No need to be impatient Alistair," Zyn says stepping out into the forest, a smile growing across his face as the leaves crunched beneath his bare feet.

"Yeah, your fault we had to leave town," Vola says as she strides to catch up.

"How is it my fault? They asked us to kill the giant rats. So I killed the giant rats" Alistair says defensively.

"You burnt the entire building down," says Vola accusingly.

"Oh you shut yer trap!" Alistair retorts.

"My trap isn't set though," Vola replies slowly, her brow scrunching up. Alistair ignores the comment of his easily confused ally. If a pack animal could fight as well as she could, he would've happily switched.

Silence falls as the group follows the natural path through the woods. Other than the occasional grunt from Vola, only the ambient sounds of nature accompanies them for about an hour. During the walk Zyn goes prancing through the trees; picking berries and swinging on thick branches, happy to be back in his natural habitat. A smile sits on Alistair's face. He enjoys the silence, reminding him of the hours he would spend studying; peaceful and...

"Where we going?" asks Vola. Alistair sighs, trying to ignore her, but can feel the gaze of her large eyes on him and eventually she asks again.

"We're heading east," he explains tediously. "Once we find another village, or town, whatever, we can find more clues about where Andariel is hiding."

"Right," says Vola. "How far we walking today?" Alistair shoots her a glare.

"You're the biggest and strongest of the three of us. How are you complaining to an old man, that you've got to walk somewhere?"

"Not my fault," sulks Vola. Alistair sighs again. Soon after, Zyn returns from dancing in the grass with a grin from ear to pointy ear and a dozen berries in hand, which he extends to Alistair and Vola in turn. Alistair refuses, deciding instead to take a swig from his water skin. Vola swipes a handful, munching them down with joy.

After a while of walking in near silence, Zyn stops abruptly, crouching low. Alistair watches his head turning slowly, scanning every nook and crevice of the surrounding thicket. Readying his quarterstaff, he notices Vola has taken her great axe in a two handed grip; somehow making her seem even bigger and more intimidating than she already was. Alistair tries to focus his mind, blocking out any ambient noise and listening for movement among the trees. But he just can't sense whatever it is the others have.

"Zyn," he whispers to the elf who, still crouching, stalks towards a large tree and nearly vanishes against its peaked barky trunk. Although, Alistair is able to observe the elf slip his short bow off his shoulder, then draw and nock an arrow; his gaze seeking the origin of his and Vola's unease.