Terror and Escape 

Wanderer couldn’t bear to watch any longer, the slaughter of their kin disturbing their soul too greatly, and so, to the mixed emotions of their Spirit who both wanted to leave a place of danger and explore more of the humans and the Magi, the Vessel left the site of the battle, beginning to circle their way around the great tree.

As they walked, Emio, who had at some point wandered off as the Verdestry was accustomed to do, rejoined Wanderer pacing a little ways ahead of the Golem on its long, wooden tendrils, occasionally, without breaking stride, Emio would turn its runic eye backwards to stare at its companion for a time before once again laying its attention on the path ahead.

As they followed their rough heading, Wanderer's mind was in turmoil, how could the humans, whom they saw as benevolent creatures from Emio's memories, so cruelly destroy an entity so majestic and beautiful as the Golem?

But with that thought, Wanderer felt as if they were dunked in the cold waters of the lake, “but death isn't beautiful?”, the Golem was a creature of power and majesty, yes, but it was also a monster of death and destruction, as Wanderer themself had once been, the Golems movements were refined and dance-like, but ultimately they still bestowed annihilation upon those in their way, their weapons of gold and bronze were stunning and powerful, but in practice, they were identical to the crude club of bone that Wanderer once wielded.

These thoughts threw the Vessels' already conflicted mind into a frenzy, both the humans and the Golem were bringers of destruction, and now they thought deeper, could they truly be sure that it was the humans attacking the Golem and not the reverse?

Wanderer was startled out of their musings by the sound of wood impacting the floor, two buckets filled with fresh water had been dropped by a startled human, they were dressed in a similar fashion to the warriors that fought the Golem, in rags, yet this one was armed with little more than the wooden pole on which they carried their buckets, a pole they were defensively pointing toward both Wanderer and Emio, in a panic-stricken attempt to ward the pair off.

The terror that encompassed the water-gatherer hurt the Vessel, that one would see them as such a threat that they would cower in fear at their sight hurt, but Wanderer could understand why, even if it still hurt.

Once again the Golem was snapped out of their contemplation, not by an outside sound or force, but by the calling of the Spirit that resided right next to their soul, a desperate calling to take action upon the ensuing scene.

For a moment the Vessel was confused, but as they once again became aware of the world around them they saw the need for concern, Emio was towering over the human, a single root tendril was raised threateningly above the terrified character, seeming worryingly similar to a snake prepared to strike, on the ground lay the pole now snapped in half, presumably by an ineffective attempt to harm the Verdestry.

With only a moments hesitation, Wanderer dashed forward in an attempt to stop the imminent attack, Emio’s tendril shot forward with a power unbefitting of living wood, its point sharper than any spear, but its point found not soft flesh but instead malleable clay, immediately the attack was rescinded, the Verdestry not expecting the sudden interference.

Wanderer's shoulder was mutilated by the attack, the root-like pseudopod having penetrated it with ease, white-hot pain emanated from the site of the injury, a warning from Wanderer's body about the severity of the attack.

And though they wished to fix their damaged visage, the Vessel had more pressing concerns, chief most being dissuading Emio from continuing their attack.

Emio had propelled themselves several steps backwards from their previous position, cautiously glaring toward both Wanderer and the terrified human with their single eye, the Golem slowly approached, and began to, by way of hurried hand gestures, attempt to stop the Verdestry's retaliation.

Emio looked on in evident confusion, as evidenced by the restless movements throughout their composite body, and after a few moments, the frantic pointing seemed to have the opposite of its intended effect, the herbal creature reluctantly raising its tendril for a follow-up attack.

Wanderers quickly put themself in the way again, grabbing the offending limb and pushing it downwards.

At this action, Emio finally understood the ripples of confusion lessening, and with a passing guilty look towards the Vessel's destroyed shoulder, took its customary place atop Wanderer's head.

It was at this time that a sharp scream rang through the forest, the horrified human finally coming to their senses, and instantly the mess of roots came alive, camps hidden in amongst the nooks and crannies of the treacherous terrain suddenly came alive with men and women woken from their midnight rest.

The Vessels' mind immediately turned to the treatment of the Golem by these people, and how they would likely react to the presence of another in the midst of their camp, and so, without even a second to repair their damaged shoulder, they sprinted off into the night.

Emio rebelled at the sudden acceleration, but as the shouts from the camps intensified, likely a result of the water-bearer's testimony, even the ignorant verdestry realised the emergency of the situation, removing itself from its perch and instead clambering upon Wanderer's back.

A quickly-headed warning from their Spirit caused the Golem to leap behind a thick tree root, a sharp spear of flames sailing where their head had been a fraction of a second ago proved this a sound decision, the spell landed among a patch of verdant grass, setting it alight and lighting up the night.

Scrambling from their position, they once again resumed their hurried escape, still hurt by their previous wound, they spared but a moment to gaze upon their attacker.

The Magi from earlier was there, preparing another spell to make up for their previous failure, unlike before their spell did not involve a complex dance or ritual, instead, a few quick hand movements weaved together vigorous runes into a bolt of orange flames.

Next to the Magi stood an imposing figure, taller than Wanderer and twice as menacing, they wore thick steel armour, with highlights of blue and white, at their side rested a sheathed sword and in their hand rose a massive steel shield.

The shield had a similar colour theme to their armour, differing only in that the steel had a green tint, in the centre rested a large green gem and the closer they looked at it the more they were convinced they could see a creature moving inside, though they had little time to look.

To either side of the gem sat a hole, inside the hole rested a ritual, similar to the one they saw in the underlake chapel, except many times smaller and formed of metal, tiny runes were engraved within.

At the sight of this shield, their Spirit cried out, an odd desperation in their tone, though Wanderer had little time to decipher its meaning.

Once again a bolt of fire targeted the Golem, slightly late in their dodge, the bolt singed their deformed lower left arm, hardening and burning where it touched.

But the most significant effect this attack had was upon Emio, the spell having set a loose tendril alight, immediately the affected limb was shoved deep underground, extinguishing the flame in a moment.

A number of emotions were conveyed through the verdestry’s wooden body, barely visible in the night, the ripples of confusion, rigidness of pain but most of all, blatant even to Wanderer, was a grim rage that flowed through its body like blood through an animal's veins.

Before Wanderer could even attempt to stop them, Emio grabbed a passing boulder and hurled it toward the offending Magi at speeds far surpassing what Wanderer thought was possible for the little creature.

Without hesitation, the massive bodyguard moved between the stone and their employer, slamming down the shield into the earth, the once dull armament came alive, the motionless ritual circles spun and danced as they were fed magic from the stone in the centre, the waltzing runes created by the ritual fled towards the ground, covering the floor at the shieldbearers feet with a dark green glow.

Without a moment of delay, the runes pulled on the ground, and the ground followed, faster than Wanderer could track, a solid wall of compact earth appeared, at least twice the Vessels height and three times their width, the boulder, despite its speed, dashed harmlessly against the magically hardened earth.

Wanderer didn’t waste a moment of time to watch what happened next, they could tell they were outmatched, they once again dashed forward with all the speed they possessed.

They passed quickly over a particularly large root, breaking line of sight with their pursuers and giving the group a moment to strategise, “We must get away from the tree”, Wanderer reasoned, finding a route down from the plateau was their best option, where they could escape into the surrounding waters and be safe, but the protecting roots that hid them grew smaller around the sides of the plateau, and they would undoubtedly reveal them to their pursuers.

With little choice, they resumed their escape, intent to discover a safe place where they could climb to freedom.

Racing around a corner, Wanderer almost crashed into a squad of soldiers, numbering in the thirties and well-armed unlike the many that were slain against the Golem, with a loud shout and a few commands, the torch-wielding, warriors were after them, attempting to catch the now fleeing Golem.

Unexpectedly, Wanderer was trapped, caught in a pincer, Magi to the right, Warriors to the left, any attempt to leave the plateau would undoubtedly be met with swift and likely deadly retaliation.

And so, with all options exhausted and their Spirit unable to provide a better option, the group did the only thing they could and began to climb up the trunk of the colossal tree.