Hawkflesh

Hawkflesh

"Please, don't help me!"
Hawkflesh opened his eyes slowly at first and the quickly.

"Oh shit!"

Slowly he rolled over to look at the dark abyss which should have been a canopy. The trees around him had sprung up overnight and the leaves on the ground were just the right kind of wet rot the feel horrible under him.

"Please no."

Rising up to a sit he took his sword and shouldered it before giving his surroundings a nice slow look. When he had gone to sleep he was on the beach of a great lake, fields and farmland surrounded him in all directions. Now he saw only endless grey trees that led into endless darkness between them.

In a desperate attempt to wake up again Hawkflesh closed his eyes and counted to five before opening them again.

He was still sitting in wet leaves in the grey forest when he opened them.

"Fuck."

Rising to a reluctant stand he managed to brush the leaves from his slacks and cloak before looking about for an easy exit in the endless repeated gloom. As he expected, no direction looked anymore promising than another.

At least the hands had not shown up yet.

Stepping out into the forest in a random direction Hawkflesh walked in cautious silence for he did not know how long before he heard the sound of movement from not far away.
He was not alone.
The Forest of Hands had another victim.
 
Last edited:
Effie remembered going to sleep in her bed at the monastery and when she'd awoken. She was . . . well somewhere else. It certainly didn't smell like her room back at the Sanctum. Nor did it sound like it. In fact there seemed to be very little sound at all. Under her fingers, she could feel the wetness of earth. Could smell the rot about her. Like she was in a forest, but again, not one she was familiar with.

She pushed herself to her feet and brushed herself off. It seemed she was dressed in the loose cotton pants and top that she'd gone to sleep with. Not even a pair of shoes to her name, much less her weapons. She had the shroud at least, so she wasn't completely powerless.

Her ears picked up a noise. Something that sounded like the movement of another. Effie crouched down in the leaves her hands searching for a stick or branch she might be able to use as a staff. Before managing to find something that should, largely work for now. Snapping off the little twigs that stuck out from the main piece, she eventually managed to have something that would hopefully work as both a weapon, provided the piece she selected wasn't rotten through, or at the least work for a staff to help her walk.

Worried about what lay ahead, she didn't want to go wasting all her shroud endurance. She never knew when she might actually need to weave. With her new staff helping to paint a picture of the path in front of her, she headed toward the sound. A tentative "Hello?" being offered to the forest beyond.
 
She emerged from behind a tree like some trick of play magic a moment after she had spoken and Hawkflesh took her in with a scrutinous glance.

She was fit and able but not tanned enough to be a farmhand, blind but had already fixed herself a rod so far from helpless and from the look of it she had never been kidnapped by a magical stretch of woodland before.
Lucky her.

"Greetings."
He spoke in grim tones, this place always made it harder for him to muster even false joviality.
"My name is Hawkflesh, THIS is the Forest of Hands, WE are currently trapped here and the only way out is to keep walking."
It was hard to keep the terseness from his voice but after years of running from this place he had only run out of patience with it. As he spoke he kept an eye on the dark above them watching for any sign of the hands, so far still nothing but he knew it would not last now that there were two of them. Leaves squished under his heels as he adjusted his stance.

"Any questions?"

That felt rude, the poor woman was probably frightened out of her mind, waking up in this place and blind to boot. A pap came from him as he lightly tapped his forehead with his palm.

"I'm... forgive me, this place is dangerous and very terrible and I hate being here."

There was no wind in this place, no motion at all, as if the life there, what was there at least, was holding its breath for something to happen. What Hawkflesh would have given for some songbird to break the sense of tension or the noise of some brush creature scurrying, anything to let him know he was not where he so painfully was.

@Euphemia Martell
 
Her simple Hello had been met with quite a bit of information. As the words came in such a rush, that she half wondered if there was a need to be in a hurry. Still rushing forward only left problems behind, so she remained quiet listening to the ramble, her blind eyes turned toward the man even as her ears listened for the details. Things that were more than being said, but also the things that she couldn't hear.

Tilting her head to the side as she considered a question only for him to speak again, apologizing for the first rush of conscious thoughts. She couldn't help the quirk of her lips in amusement.

Forest of the Hands. That sounded ominous. Being trapped certainly was no joy either.

"Euphemia." She said in return for his own name. "I can't imagine anyone likes to be some place dangerous. However, you seem well acquainted with this forest?" She asked, the first of what could possibly be many questions if she had a chance to ask them.
 
Hawkflesh ran his hand down his face in dramatic despair.
"Yes, much, much more than I would like Euphemia. Nice name by the by."

As he took a few steps towards her his sword rattled in his belt and leaves shifted under his boots.

"I don't know the why or the how of it but the important part right now is that we are stuck in a magical section of forest that is FOLLOWING ME!"
He spat the accusation out into the vast nothing as if he could hurt it's feelings.
"But that's not the worst of it, oh no. This place is inhabited by gross floating hands that will carry us away into the gloom, never to be seen or heard from again, should they find us!"

He felt himself getting mad at it again and took a breath to calm himself then looked over her again and noticed that she was in her night clothes and hardly fit to be outdoors.
"You must be cold, please take my cape."
He unclasped it from his shoulder and it ruffled as he handed it, half folded over, to Euphemia.

@Euphemia Martell
 
Last edited:
If she hadn't have woken up knowing that she'd fallen asleep in her bed the night before she would have thought the man to be insane. She could hear him take a deep breath and then he was calm again. He made a surprising offer.

"Thank you. That is very kind of you." Effie says holding out her hand, not quite sure of where he was, but when she felt the fabric with her fingers, she accepted it. Hands rand along the edge, feeling for the clasp to help know how exactly to put it on. It took longer than she would have liked to find the clasp, but wasn't quite willing to ask for help either.

"You mentioned hands?" She asked as her fingers searched, taking the attention away from just how slow the process was. "How are you sure that once taken the person is gone for good?" In trying to understand this forest, then perhaps they could find a way to destroy it. Or perhaps at least make it so that it couldn't steal anyone else into it's depths. Finally finding the clasp, she wrapped the thing about her shoulders before clasping it shut.

"Do you know when you reached the exit? I would hate to accidently end up back in our appropriate places only to find that I've made off with your cloak." She said, her fingers reaching up to unclasp the fabric and give it back to him.
 
Who was this person and why was she so calm? Most people freaked out when they landed here, perhaps blindness afforded her the calm of the dark.
"Keep it, I can get another one."
Of all the things to be concerned about his cape was the least of it. After all he may not survive this ordeal so who would she give it back to in that case?

"Regarding the hands themselves," Again he let out a sigh, he hated explaining it and he had a very good reason for that. It sounded insane. "I suppose I don't KNOW with perfect FACT that nobody will ever see you again if you get taken but I've never seen anyone taken again and I've never met anyone who claims they had been taken so I'm not risking it on that chance."

He turned and began to walk, still talking so that Euphemia could follow him easily though the sound of the leaves under his boots were consitent.
"Stay close and if I tell you to run, run."

It was the best he could do while he tried to lead her out of there and hope that he saw the hands before they came for them.

@Euphemia Martell
 
She supposed that was fair enough, so she let the cloak settle about her shoulders.

Effie followed after the man's voice, her staff checking the path for obstacles as they walked. While facing the need to run, she decided that it might be worth the drain to use her shroud sight. It took little focus, almost second nature now, to flip on the ability, to draw on the shroud. That was when she noticed two things. One there was a lot more shroud to draw on than was normal and two everything was very, very bright.

The knight gasped in pain, stumbling as she quickly released the spell, her hand going to cover her eyes as if blinded by the sun. The brightness descending back into it's natural darkness. Normally, with her sight it was easier to see things. A glow that reflected the presence of the shroud. People were often brighter, but trees, grass, animals, all those contained varying amounts and so could show up differently in her vision. This was just . . . solid. Solid and bright.

"I think running might be a bit . . . harder than I expected." She said, straightening slowly as she leaned on the staff hoping it wouldn't just snap. Her heart starting to race as a skill she'd come to rely on was no longer at her finger tips. Her head throbbed from just the few seconds of shroud sight. She would have to rely on her other senses and fighting would be difficult if it came down to needing to combat these hands.
 
Her yelp did not go unnoticed by him. In the quiet she may as well have barked in his ear so he spun around assuming some injury or fall had taken her, his mind even carried the thought that perhaps even the hands had arrived to claim her.

"What happened, are you hurt?"

His eyes gave her a quick inspection but found nothing, no injury at least but already he had his sword drawn and the clean quick sound it made as he drew it hung in the air a moment before falling to the earth.

His companion looked a bit pathetic then, helpless as a lamb in this place and despite his eagerness to leave he felt himself compelled to offer some reassurance.

"I won't leave you, we'll take it slow if we have to. We just have to keep going."

The woods around him gave little of themselves until he heard another sound, one that he knew well and brought a chill to his guts. Again he spun and sure as sardines there it was, latched to the bark of a tree, pale and rotted so it almost blended into the grey of the bark, a severed hand, slowly making its way down the thick trunk like a limping spider.

Hawkflesh reached his hand out to Euphemia and took hold of her stick anchoring her to him.

"Be very still. They're here."

The hand moved slowly but he knew that meant little. When they wanted to he knew they could move faster than you would think and had a nasty habit of dropping from the trees onto their victims.


@Euphemia Martell
 
Hawkflesh's concerned voice echoed in her ears and she held up a hand in reassurance. "It's fine. The shroud here. . . it's just so bright." She knew that like sounded a bit odd and not at all explaining what had just happened. She blinked her eyes, the halos of the bright flash of light still lingering against her eyelids.

There was an urgency in his voice that had her pushing herself upright again. Hand steadying on the branch that served as her staff. She was just about to move forward again, when a strange rustle behind her had her freezing in place. It wasn't the rustle of footsteps. More like the slow scrape of flesh against wood. A shiver ran down her spine.

She felt a pressure on her staff, holding it in place as the voice of her companion whispered near by. Still. She nodded her head ever so slightly, her hand shifting it's hold. Reversing so it was gripped more like a weapon than a guiding stick. Her heart pounded as she tried to think of how she could fight something that she couldn't see. The shroud was too great, that even if it didn't feel like it burned her ocular nerves, she likely wouldn't have even been able to pick out whatever was out there anyways.

Effie would have to rely on her other senses . . . or with the shroud so strong here did that make her use of it stronger?
 
A Shroud Weaver, that explained much to Hawkflesh. He never had any gift for it but he knew it was a powerful tool.

"Can you manipulate fire perchance?"

It was the only thing he could think of that would be useful. Still holding the stick he directed it to point directly at the shuffling rotted appendage as it made it's way down towards the ground.

"I can guide your efforts if you can manage it."

If Euphemia had not been there he would run away as fast as he could and not stop until his body gave out.
The fear that made his stomach frost over into sluggish uselessness leaped into his heart and turned it to burning lead.
But Euphemia was here and she was blind but she could Weave and that was something.

@Euphemia Martell
 
She shakes her head, even as she feels him point her staff in a direction that she assumed was at whatever these hands were. "I'm more likely to burn down the forest with us in it trying to direct fire in a nature like that." She said back, keeping her voice soft still.

The knight wracked her brain thinking of what she might be able to do. "Are you directing my arm toward it?" She asked with a sudden idea. Fire was out of the question, but she could summon weapons. Before she'd summoned something equating to a sword into her hand to fight with, but what if she threw a summoned weapon? It should work, she hoped. In her mind, she imagined the feel of a knife in her hand and imagined what it would be like to throw it in the direction that she was being pointed.

The weapon materialized, shroud condensed into solid form. She could hear how the blade sounded as it cut through the air. The soft hiss until it imbedded in something that sounded like flesh. The young woman held still tension in her body, unable to tell if the attempt had been successful or if she'd made things worse.
 
"Yes, I... WOAH!"

The blade whizzed passed his head at frightening speed and stuck the hand to the tree with a solid noise. The rotted hand was nailed to the tree now, unable to move further despite its struggle to do so. It clawed so hard the nails on its digits broke and bled thick dark blood.

"That works, let's move."
No time to dwell on this sudden advantage. The hand was stopped and there were always more so it was time to go. Leading Euphemia by the stick he marched them off into the dark and kept looking for others.

"That was a good shot, please forgive the pace but the longer we stay the worse it gets."
His eyes tried to be everywhere, his ears to hear everything but there was always a new side of a tree and their footfalls masked any approach he might have heard from those on the ground. In vain he looked forward every now and then hoping to see something that wasn't this endless forest. A different tree or shrub, a single flower even a large rock would tell him they were close to leaving but nothing, for long and frustrating paces he saw nothing hopeful.

"Damn this accursed place!"

@Euphemia Martell
 
The knight felt relief as Hawkflesh confirmed her success with the spell. It seemed that she was correct in her thought that the affluent nature of the shroud in this space strengthened the spells. If she had time, she could try to cast the spell for her sight with less shroud, but there was no time. The urgency of his voice and the tug on her make-shift staff forcing her to follow, pulling her along as they wove through a forest she couldn't see.

She did her best to keep up with her new companion, though without her staff to help find the dips and roots that while mere inconveniences to another were hazards to her. They had been running but a few minutes when her foot caught on a root and sent her tumbling toward the ground. Her shin cracked against the root, cutting through the thin cotton of her pants. Her hands catching in loam and dead leaves.

She reaches out, searching for something to help her up, a tree trunk, anything. "Hawkflesh?" She called out, voice wavering as she worried between being too loud and alerting the enemies to their location and being loud enough to grab his attention, her hands reaching, searching.
 
Now he'd really done it.
Before she even hit the ground Hawkflesh knew Euphemia was falling, something in the way the stick went off balance in his grip.
By the time he'd spun about to witness it his companion had fallen forward, sprawled and gripping helplessly in the rotten leaves of the forest bed.

He had rushed her too much, let his knowledge of this place get the better of him and let it turn into too much fear. Her cry had shaken him from his fear and thought he had no time for self indulgence, he felt guilty wash over himself.

"I'm here, Euphemia, I won't leave without you."
A statement he had to force himself to believe as he knelt down beside her and put his hand into hers that she may use it as leverage to help herself stand.
"Forgive me. I should have known I was going too fast..."

A rustle struck his ears like a hammer from where they had come.

Just a short way away on the leaf strewn earth was a second hand. It had dropped onto the ground and was moving towards them.

Hawkflesh never did find out what mechanism drove them to find their prey. Noise seemed to effect it only sometimes, other times it was like they could see or sense people but thinking on it now he did not believe any of it would make sense to him even if he knew.

"Euphemia I am going to ask you to climb on my back that I may carry you. They have found us again."

It was a most undignified thing to ask of a lady, especially one so undressed but she could scold him till sunset if they made it out alive.

@Euphemia Martell
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom