Page 6 of X'nath

“Agreed,” Karg croaked, still shaking off the aftershocks of our near-miss. “I’m pretty sure I aged ten years back there.”

The older orcs grumbled in agreement, their voices low and gruff. Korrin, his face lined with years of battle, muttered, “You’re lucky you even made it out, Karg. You’re the lightest of us—those vines could’ve yanked you down first if they’d wanted to.”

Gorruk added, his tone grumpy, “The kid’s right though. This place smells of trouble, and I’ve had enough of it. If I wanted to be dragged into the muck, I’d have stayed home.”

“Enough of the chatter. We made it through that creepy mess, so let’s move on before something else tries to grab us,” I barked, trying to push past the unease that had settled over us all, the adrenaline still thrumming through my veins. "We’ve got a shipwreck to raid, and I’m not letting some swamp turn us into ghosts just yet."

But even as I said it, the weight of the swamp’s grip, both literal and figurative, lingered.

"Right," Greag said, glancing over his shoulder. "Like maybe the crone comes back for seconds?"

"Or the giant frog decides we’re its next meal!" Karg added, his eyes darting nervously around, as if expecting the monstrous creature to appear at any moment.

"Or worse," I suggested, my voice lowering for effect, "what if we run into something even creepier? Like a cursed ghost, or a?—"

"Stop! Don’t say it!" Karg shouted, throwing his hands up in a frantic gesture as if to ward off the words themselves. "I can’t handle any more horrors today!"

The group collectively shuddered, the weight of the swamp's eerie atmosphere still pressing on us. We had barely escaped its grasp, and now we were heading toward what could be an even greater threat—whatever lay beyond the fog.

With Bolg and Yargol leading the way, their keen senses alert, we ventured out of the swamps and onto the sandy shores.But as we neared the water's edge, the silence felt wrong—too still. Tension was palpable, and the surface of the water seemed unnaturally calm.

"Something’s off," Greag muttered, his hand instinctively reaching for his weapon.

I squinted out at the darkening water, the sinking sun casting various colors over the ripples. “Stay sharp,” I warned. "I don’t like the way that water looks."

Then, from the depths of the lake, something shifted beneath the surface—something large and dark. The water trembled as it began to rise, sending a chill of dread through us all.

"Whatever’s waiting for us, it’s coming."

4

The Calm Before the Storm

X’NATH

The men stood at the water's edge, eyes trained on the dark, still surface. The air was heavy with unease, thick with tension that felt almost tangible. Each ripple seemed to carry an ominous warning, and the silence pressed down on us like a heavy cloak.

Greag shifted uneasily, his hand tightening around his weapon, his eyes scanning the horizon. "I don't like this," he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for the others to hear.

I didn’t like it either. The water looked wrong—too still, too quiet. It was as if something was waiting, lurking beneath the surface, waiting to strike.

Then, without warning, a dark shape shot up from the water. It moved too fast to be anything natural—an explosion of movement, a blur in the gloom. We watched in stunned silence as a skaevin bird—massive, leathery wings spread wide—suddenly emerged from the water, its sharp beak clamped tightly around something. The creature’s screech echoed across the swamp, a sound both shrill and haunting.

As it rose higher, we could see the figure in its beak: a humanoid, struggling in vain against the bird’s powerful grip. Their screams sliced through the air, full of terror and desperation. The sound sent a chill down my spine, and for a moment, I forgot to breathe. The bird’s prey flailed weakly, helpless against the beast’s relentless hold.

"What in the ancestors’ name…?" Karg whispered, his voice thick with disbelief.

The skaevin’s flight was fast, but the struggle of the person caught in its beak slowed them for just a moment as they let out a masculine scream. I could only imagine their face, twisted in agony, as they looked down at the water below, eyes wide in terror as they were carried away. It was like the world had stopped, the swamp holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable.

Then, with a sickening snap, the creature dropped the humanoid into the water. The screams abruptly stopped, and the surface of the water rippled violently, as if something deep below had stirred in response. The bird continued its ascent, its wings cutting through the air as it vanished into the darkening sky, leaving nothing but ripples behind.

The silence that followed was oppressive. No one spoke, none of us daring to make a sound. My heart was pounding in my chest, a mixture of awe and horror settling over me.

“That... that wasn’t just a meal," Greag murmured, his voice low and tense. “That was a warning.”

I could feel the eyes of the men on me. I didn’t have an answer, only the cold realization that whatever lay ahead, it was far worse than we had imagined.

I swallowed hard, my instincts screaming at me to leave, to turn back. But I knew that wasn’t an option—not now. The shipwreck was close, and whatever waited out there in the waters wasn’t going to stop us.

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