The forest was silent. The only sounds that echoed through the bushes were their footsteps. Two pairs. One lightly packed and another clad in armor, leaving a heavier trail. Zaire and Akhzane are trying to get away from the village of Firr knowing the bakroes wil follow. Their imagination runs wild as they imagine the creatures, suddenly big as giants, crushing bushes in their way. Reaching claws over fields and rivers to catch them. “Wait!” Akhzane suddenly holds still. She throws her head jn the air to catch her breath and simultaneously rips of one of the shoulder pieces of her armor. “I can’t run fast enough with all of this on.” “Then take it off, quickly.” Zaire looks back, her eyes darting from tree to tree. Even though there is nothing in sight she feels uneasy. “Bakroes can be powerful, so we have to move quickly so we can avoid confrontation.” Akzhane wriggles out of another piece of her armor and throws it on the ground. “Dangerous yes, powerful? not these ones. Bakroes get their power from their valuables. Like coins, gemstones. These were desperate to get their hands on the artefact that the map leads to. So…” Akhzane stops mid sentence as she realizes something. “Darion knows this too…” “who is Darion? And please make haste!” Akhzane starts throwing the pieces of armor she removed into her cape, folds them into a package and shoves it under a bush. The wine red color of the cape is indistinguishable from the bush in this light, and she prays that won’t change with daylight. “Darion is my chief. He knows how bakroes get their strength and took multiple gemstones with him as payment for the map. I’m sure he has given them some upfront to make sure they get back the map as well. Just enough so they can use some of their tricks on us.” Zaire nodds. “Just out of curiosity. Why did you choose to go with me?” Akhzane scratches the back of her head. She is really not comfortable with giving this stranger too much personal information so she puts on a smirk and says. “You are kind of attractive, so I figured, why not.” A silence, followed by a cold, sarcastic “We are going to have so much fun together.” Which makes Akhzane regret the choices that led up to this point instantly.
They continue their journey through the forest in silence. By the time the trees get scarcer, giving way to a big field rolling over the hills, light touches the horizon. The dark blues around them starts to fade and make place for the pale colors of early morning. The sky is grey, and will soon turn orange. Back in the forest they hear the distinct call of a cuckoo. The echos of the birds voice sounds eerie as it follows them into the field. Cuckoo cuckoo. Zaire, who is used to foraging in this area, feels a wave of unease wash over her. The hairs on her arms start tingling and she urges Akhzane to walk faster. “We will have to rest at some point.” “Not now!” She hisses. They walk farther, and every now and then look over their shoulders. The fields are seeded with rye that is almost ready for harvest. So the plumes are about shoulder height which makes it harder to look around. The only thing they can see through is the trail of crushed stems behind them. But the Bacroos will be able to follow them as though following a map, hunting them up via the road of crushed grains. “Come! Lets get out of here.” Zaire leads them to the edge of the field to a small road with on their left a ravine. It shows a winding river that cuts through the landscape shaping it by moving stone by stone in its course. By doing so for hundreds of years it created high slopes of red sand, which now guarded the river like walls. In the rivers arms a mile or so away, there is a small village. A tiny island with houses on it, scattered in the red clay. There are bridges from the village crossing both arms. Zaire heads for the West bridge. They follow the road down the slope, kicking up red dust on their way. On the bridge they look at the small village but Zaire decides to push further. “We can’t burden this tiny island with our presence, the bakroos will know where we are immediately.” Akhzane agrees, even though she can’t help but look at those inviting homes. Thinking she could use a bed and some food. But she knows, just as well as Zaire, that this is too obvious a place to stay. And if Darion chose to give Ba Sombre the Chrysoprase he brought the bakroo would be able to raise the water. Causing the river arms to swell out of their beds and onto the island. Forcing the two streams together in a crushing wall of water. For the Chrysoprase has the element of water, and combined with magic its a powerful conductant.
When Zaire and Akhzane reach the other side of the river they pass a bush and a family of skittish sparrows come rushing out. They shoot into the air, chattering loudly. Only, as the chattering swells the sounds suddenly starts to change. It vibrates through the ground and Akhzane’s last pieces of armor start to rattle like a heard of cattle is approaching. The sounds seems to climb into their bones and rattle their teeth. Then it changes into a high pitched scream. Both press their hands to their ears, communicating verbally has no use. The wall of sound deafens everything. Akzhane rips two pieces of leather off of her uniform using her dagger. She jams them into her earholes as gently as she can with the maddening sound around her and grabs Zaires hand. Steering them to the next part of the forest. When they enter the woods the wall of sound breaks on the first row of trees. Unable to create as much magnitude in the forest as it could in the open air. Still, it follows them, pressed into the forest as if through a funnel, little balls of concentrated sound roll around the blacksmith and the soldier. They hear them scamper around on the forest floor and everytime a wave crosses them the grass in front of them splits and the explosive sound of sudden screams forces them to halt. When a fourth scream is about to hit Akhzane sees them. Ba Sombre and his sergeant stand on a distant hill. In his hands he holds something that is stretched out towards them. He mumbles in utter concentration, like a priest communicating with their god. Akhzane pulls Zaire along. Leading them up a hill. Then suddenly she sees an opening. A perfectly round hill with a circular opening on the top and a faint glow emanating from it. A voice that is the opposite of Ba Sombre’s, rolls over the hill towards them. Come hide, now! So she sprints, taking Zaire with her and, without thinking, pushes her over the edge. She sits down, Ba Sombre’s mumbling echoes in her head despite the leather ear plugs. She crosses her arms over her chest, lays back, and rolls herself into the glowing circle.