Our traps we set on the second day, having planned out our methods. The group was roughly a hundred gnolls, and they had to pass through the junction before they reached open space. In a way, I reminded myself of the goblins that had ambushed us, let their guard up, and strike hard.

We laid traps at the junction itself and further out into the farm in a fan shaped spread. During this time I laid a few traps in the forest as well. Due to the fact that we were working from the village, there were a variety of supplies open for us to use. Nails, boards, some weapons that hadn’t been taken by the gnolls who had passed through. The spears were of particular interest to us.

Lapi scouted out the forest itself, where we laid traps at the edges of the junction, where people might cut through. He was fairly adept at circumventing them, taking roundabout paths and having seemed to memorise where we’d placed them. Made me feel very lucky never to have fought them head on. During the nights I would watch the graves, chasing away scavengers that decided to take advantage of them as a food source.

It rained throughout the second day, muddy water mixing into our traps, and seeping into the graves. I salvaged the boards we’d used, ensuring that I could return them to the holes later without mould growing upon them. We stayed within the houses, cooking food on stoves that would never be used by their owners again. I found where Kayio and Gen lived, the distinctive alchemist sign hanging outside the building itself. Pushing the door open, I stepped in, water trickling down my armour.

It was warmer inside, sheltered from the rain. My footsteps rang on the wooden floor, there were bloodstains on them, dried and dark crimson, nearly invisible in the sombre darkness. Glass shards lay behind the counter, tinkling as they were crushed underfoot. I noted that many of the ingredients were gone, and the glass didn’t make up for all the empty spaces on the shelves. Probably taken by the gnolls. I thought to myself. Their rooms lay behind the counter, but I didn’t enter, regardless of whether they were dead, it felt wrong to enter another’s private chambers.

I knelt, brushing my hand over the glass, there was no blood anywhere on the ground or the glass. Though blood did stain the counter, and I found several marks where something had cut into them. I traced them, suddenly aware that I had no purpose here. Nothing can bring back the dead. I thought, leaning against a wall.

[Well with technology it’s possible to repair all the physical parts of the body and restart normal biological processes.] Page remarked. I sighed.

I was going to wax poetic for a moment. I shrugged. I wouldn’t like that though. In the end, to me, it’s just a copy of myself when I’ve already died. There’s nothing different, but my life ends when I die, and that copy is just another life that starts at that moment.

Page grew quiet, I could feel its thoughts entering the low hum of contemplation. I sat down to wait for the rain to pass.

That night we replaced the boards and nails, though the nails themselves managed to rust slightly. More poison for those who failed to drink the healing potions I guess. I sat overlooking the graves, watching. Will o’ wisps were out tonight, hovering over the graves themselves. “Grave candles.” I heard someone say, and I turned to see Qent walking towards me. “The souls of the dead who died without proper burial. Others say they are fairies, drawn to weep across lands of concentrated death.”

I stayed silent, they looked like the accounts I’d heard before of ignis fatuus, these supposedly came from the cold flames of decaying material. Perhaps that still is what it is in this world. I thought. But when you have spectres and fairies, it just seems more likely for others to think it to be magic than science. The blue flames danced silently across the graves, flickering even in the cool still air.

I slid off the roof, satisfied that tonight they would not receive unwanted visitors. The air then grew colder still, and a shriek sounded from the forest. I turned in the direction, running out the village to get a better look. I almost started to laugh when I caught sight of it.

It was an ethereal presence, hovering from the ground it measured two metres. A crude caricature of a human being it possessed a gaunt frame with thin spindly limbs hanging from its body. I watched it for a moment, noting that a few others had emerged from the forest. Two did not possess full bodies, with one made up of only a single arm and the other just a head.

I gritted my teeth, the book itself noted that spectres were a difficult beast to wrangle. It sapped your strength with each blow and were very difficult to hurt. It conjectured that these were magical beings, and that magic was most effective, though its corporeal manifestation could be repeatedly harmed as well. Metals worked well in that regard.

I drew my sword as they closed moving forward into the clearing. I wouldn’t be able to do much, but fighting in such an open space would be better for me than fighting with walls that could hide them. I heard Qent come up from behind, panting as he did so. Good, with a mage, all we needed to do was wait until he had recovered. I stepped forward, starting the fight with a swing from left to right, a dagger in my left hand. Shields meant nothing in this fight, may as well maximise damage.

The spectre shrieked again, and I flinched, barely managing to roll aside as it rushed forward. I ducked under the hand that grabbed from behind. Looks like I can still feel them with Sense. Something felt off about their forms though, but I couldn’t place my finger on it, especially with my attention focused elsewhere. A shout came from Qent, and I rolled to the side.

A wind blew across the clearing, but something carried within, seeming to roil and seethe as it entered my Sense. The spectres attempted to dodge, and one shrunk into the ground, protected from the magic carried in the winds. The others had their corporeal forms swept away, but didn’t reform as they did with my blade, perhaps that was the magic at work.

The spectre burst forth from beneath me, and I felt a rift pass through me. My eyes snapped open as I spun around, swinging the blade into the spectre’s form. I barely struck it, my mind disconcerted by the realm I Sensed on the other side of the rift. A second gust of wind from Qent pulled the creature apart, and as it faded I could feel the rift close as well.

I stayed in stance for a moment longer, the magic beyond had been a moving sea, shifting and splitting and changing, as one mass of substance stood apart, pulling on the rift. My blade lowered, and I heard Qent retch. I turned to see him leaning against a wall, once again pale. I walked over, cocking my head, perhaps it was the extra magic he’d released in its primordial state. He waved us away, and I simply stepped back to the houses we had ‘borrowed’, falling asleep on the floor.

The gnolls arrived halfway through the fifth day. Their formations had loosened, as had their vigilance, we might have been able to pull off one of our older raids. That wasn’t the plan this time though, this time the plan was aiming much higher. I, Frejr and Qent waited several metres away from the junction, awaiting the last stragglers among the group to pass.

We pounced then, striking into the back of the army as a sheet of flame began to coat the middle section of it. Water swirled beneath, trapping their feet as I and Frejr rammed into their back ranks. Disoriented and scattered, they moved in the direction without flames and the sound of screaming dead, at least, the ones that could move did. The others would trip, falling to the ground as the water held fast to their feet.

I threw a single javelin once I had cut down the ones closest to me, aiming for the gnoll trying to rally the others, my final one. I’d lost the last few facing creatures like the Chimaera, though when it finally attacked, I hadn’t prepared one. It punched through the leather, he howled in pain, coughing up blood as he fell. The others fell into hysteria, and as the waters receded, they pushed away from us in a panic, most not even daring to turn around.

Screams and the sounds of menacing clashing came from behind, in truth another of Qent’s paraphernalia, air magic was less costly than the other magics, it was simply up to his control. We pushed forward relentlessly, chasing their fleeing backs until a wall of shields appeared from among them. Their general and his chosen no doubt, Frejr pushed forward, engaging their group first. Their spears slid across the plate armour, perfectly formed and fitted its purposes. Her swing shook the shield wall, and I dived in.

My unhappy flashbacks to the last time I faced a general’s bodyguard unit aside, they held themselves well, guarding against my strike and throwing a few my way. I deflected them, my shield unsettling them with its lightness and strength. We faded away from them, knowing that they had likely already shaken the advantage of surprise. Qent’s face was pale, he chewed on a small amount of herb, something to still his nerves. A drug, I didn’t like it at all, but it was all that allowed him to continue using the magic, and without it, we wouldn’t have had enough panic.

Frejr stayed to watch over Qent, I instead moved forward, to see the grim fruit of our labour. What I saw left me with hollow satisfaction, many had become mired in the traps we’d set, a few dead by arrows to their necks or skull. The others writhed within the traps, their hands desperately prying at the boards now stuck to their thighs. Another two people I didn’t recognize were there as well, one lying sitting up on the ground, a single leg pulled to himself. The other swung a sling, sending shot after shot alongside Numen.

I came from behind, stepping over corpses that never seemed to end as my blade sought out the ones that had not. I thrust through the corpses, even as I waved Numen to aid Frejr. There were obviously not close to a hundred corpses here, the rest had likely dispersed. I sighed, they would likely be a persistent problem if they survived the forests.

Numen gestured for the other two to stay put, and the spearman visibly sunk, the slinger simply nodded, continuing to sling at the few warm bodies he spied. “Who’re they?” I asked Numen. They weren’t dressed in typical military armour, some of it seemed mismatched in style, the spearman wearing a combination of metal, leather and chain.

He confirmed my thoughts. “They’re other irregulars. The man with the spear is known as Igren, he wields the Ravenchem, the unbreakable spear. Wen is a sling user of magical ability. They’re fairly well known.” He said, cocking his head quizzically.

I shrugged. “We haven’t managed to take out the general’s unit, but I’m sure they know that we are only four, if we can take them out, at least we can be mostly certain they can’t rally.” I flexed my hand, a certain numbness to it, I frowned, but went with Numen to tie up loose ends.