The travelers emerged from the forest quickly, the lack of need for breakfast had them on their way immediately after waking up. Zalan was only now coming to terms with just how incredible an Artifact the Satiator was. There was so much time normally put into cooking and eating that they could now skip. He took a moment to consider himself grateful for it. Very grateful. He waited, but not even a hint of tears came to his eyes. Perhaps there was a trick to this crying thing that he wasn’t aware of?
Gorb made certain to scan the horizon for any evidence of the Mind of Madness before continuing their way to the Castle of Docrun. When he indicated to everyone that the skies were clear, the rest of the travelers breathed in relief, the slight anxiety of the possibility of meeting the creature once more was reduced for now.
The forest cleared to a meadow of flowers with the path cutting through the center. The smells were fragrant and light, like a mix of honey and perfume. The meadows were almost a spectrum of colors and light as far as their eyes could see. That was, except for a small circle patch that had met the gaze of the Mind of Madness the day before.
“Why does it do that?” Zalan asked. He didn’t have to indicate to the dead zone in the flower beds, everyone immediately knew what he was referring to.
“When we saw the creature pass by on our journey, I was told by Sir Rolcoth that the Mind of Madness desires madness. In its perverse way, it enjoys it. The monster wishes to see madness wherever it flies,” Gorb said.
“You saw it when you were on your way to get the Elemental Power?” Zalan asked.
“On the way back home,” Gorb nodded.
“What was that like? Did it get Rolcoth?” Zalan asked.
“Sir Rolcoth,” Gorb corrected immediately. “It was a similarly distressing experience for me. Sir Rolcoth told us to hide without a second thought. He was Level Twelve! He could topple a tree or two with enough power of his wind. But even he did not want to be caught on the same path as the Mind of Madness. It changed how I saw strength.”
“Is that it?” Yelsa pointed forward and the rest of the travelers tensed in terror, wondering how they were supposed to find a place to hide from the Mind of Madness in such an open space. But when they looked forward to see what Yelsa extended her arm at, they only saw the shape of a building on the horizon. They all turned to glare at her.
“What?” she shrunk a bit, then realized what was happening. “Oh, no, not the… I meant is that the castle?”
“Next time, clarify sooner,” Fran warned, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice.
“The castle is past a town and across a river,” Rep said, trying to make out the building. “We should see the river at the same time we see Docrun.”
“On second thought, it looks to be a Boznok den,” Yelsa drew her bow.
The others drew their weapons as well, Zalan fumbling for his sword.
“Boznoks?” Zalan asked. “Are they dangerous?”
“Indeed,” Rep replied.
“They can be,” Fran shrugged.
“Would the Mind of Madness have even left them alone?” Yelsa asked.
The group considered this carefully. The Mind of Madness had certainly come through this area, and if it had affected the Boznoks, then there was no concern of a battle.
“Can we go around them?” Zalan asked.
“There is no need,” Fran said confidently. “With five travelers, we will handily be able to ward off any number of Boznoks. They are strong, but not at a distance. So long as they do not ambush us, we will have the advantage.”
“We could be cautious and go around anyway,” Rep offered, glancing at Zalan.
“Let us first see whether they survived the Mind of Madness before altering our route,” Yelsa said. “I do not wish to lose all of the Satiator’s blessing before we arrive at the town between us and the castle.”
Zalan shrugged as Rep nervously followed the other travelers stalking forward. Yelsa pulled out an arrow and nocked it on her bow. Gorb and Fran led the way, Fran preparing to imbue her sword at the first sign of danger, but not sooner in order to prevent being seen at a distance. Zalan felt exposed, the meadowy, grassy fields felt far too open and empty. Where the meadow was so inviting a moment ago, it felt like a disadvantage now. If the Boznoks could spew a large wad of acid at a distance, they would all be burned before they even got a good view of them. It was maddening not knowing about the creature they were being hunted by.
After a few minutes, Zalan was able to make out the shape and size of the Boznok den. It was a large treehouse built from the base and extending much higher up in the tree, large enough to hold at least a score of people comfortably, if not more. There were pointed sticks accenting the ends of all the rooftops, some of them stained with red, but whether it was red ink or blood, Zalan couldn’t tell. The den was held in the only tree in the meadow, and Zalan soon realized that it was surrounded by other tree stumps, likely the source for the wood used to build the rest of the den. Zalan couldn’t see anything inside the windows of the den, nor could he hear anything but the flowers and grass waving in the faint, fragrant breeze. Even the base of the den was covered in flowers, and it seemed to Zalan that it was intentionally maintained to keep it decorative. The closer they all got, the more Zalan wondered if there was any threat in the den. They were a stone’s throw away when they stopped moving, keeping themselves at the ready.
“Is it safe?” Zalan whispered.
“It looks to be empty. I think the Mind of Madness got them,” Yelsa whispered back.
“No,” Gorb said immediately. “The flowers at the base of the den still live.”
“They are covered by the rest of the den, they may have been shielded from the blast,” Yelsa answered.
“But I would suspect something around here to be out of place after being visited by the Mind of Madness,” Gorb said, using his sword to present the larger area of thriving flora.
“Then where are the Boznoks?” Yelsa asked.
“Perhaps they went out to hunt?” Rep said hopefully.
Fran shook her head.
“They are not careful creatures. They certainly would have trampled the grass or flowers if they had just left. We would see some signs if they left anytime today,” Fran answered.
“What if they left a long time ago?” Rep asked.
Fran measured the question in her mind and shrugged ambivalently.
They continued to stare at all the windows of the den, tracing the edges of the ground floor with their eyes to make sure they were not hiding away from them, preparing for an ambush. Finally, Gorb made a motion that he would go forward alone to draw out any attacks and for the others to keep back and cover him.
He rushed forward, leaving the others behind, except for Fran who decided not to listen to her brother’s orders. The two ran across the path forward, stopping when they were standing just below the treehouse at the highest point in the tree. They looked at one another and shrugged silently, waving for the rest of the travelers to come forward.
Rep, Zalan, and Yelsa joined them cautiously, but soon saw that there was nothing creeping around to spring on them. Rep breathed more easily and Zalan began to admire the mishmashed architecture of the treehouse-like den. The logs were cut at the edges and set into one another like fastens instead of just tied together. The den looked sound, and could probably withstand a bad storm without falling apart.
“What are Boznoks? They made this by themselves?” Zalan asked.
“Fascinating creatures, really,” Fran said. “Do you want to see the inside of their home?”
“We really should be leaving before they get back,” Rep said with some urgency.
“It will only take a minute and Gorb will watch the horizon for us,” Fran promised.
Gorb rolled his eyes and reluctantly nodded as Fran ran to the front door of the lowest part of the den, which was more a wood slab placed on the entryway than it was a door with hinges.
“Now, pay attention to the carvings they make into the lower part of the walls,” Fran said theatrically to Zalan just before she pulled off the slab. Zalan smiled with anticipation, really curious how this otherworldly creature depicted culture in its home. Fran placed her arm on the slab and threw it open. “Here we… Oh…”
“Dear God!” Yelsa screamed, immediately taking a few paces away and raising her bow.
The floor of the den was filled with fifteen napping Boznoks, all sleeping next to their various clubs and weapons. The Boznoks were about human-sized, but their heads were horned and shaped like that of a bull, like a partial minotaur. Their muscular arms and bodies looked almost exactly like humans, except that their legs ended in hooves instead of feet. As soon as Fran threw the door open, sunlight streamed in enough to wake two on the far end of the room. One spun itself upright and armed itself immediately as the other rolled lazily to check on the door.
“Mrrf?” the second Boznok asked, then widened its bulbous eyes.
It began braying madly, immediately awakening the rest of the Boznoks. They screamed and yelled, all immediately arming themselves and pointing at their intruders before rushing at them in a stream to the door. Fran threw Zalan backward who would have fallen all the way over if he was not caught by a burst of wind from Gorb. Fran threw a giant flame at the front door, blocking the exit with a large column of fire, but the Boznoks immediately changed course and jumped out windows as the flame spread to their den.
One began charging at Zalan with horns bared and Zalan could barely hold his sword up in time before it collapsed dead, an arrow sprouted from its head. He turned and saw Yelsa firing more arrows as the Boznoks continued to pour out of their den.
“Someone cover Zalan!” Yelsa said as two Boznoks flanked her forcing her to retreat.
Zalan turned back around in time to brace himself before another Boznok tried to bore him with its horns, driving him a foot back as he held his sword up sturdily while panicking. He let out a zap of lightning, blinding the Boznok momentarily while it swung a mace at him, barely missing and destroying the grass where the weapon landed.
“I will be there soon!” Rep cried, throwing a small fireball at the back of the Boznok’s head.
The Boznok grunted in dissatisfaction, then wheeled its horns out of the lock it was in with Zalan’s sword and turned toward Rep. Rep swallowed hard as he threw another fireball that was mostly disregarded by the Boznok that charged at him, horns pointed at his gut. Rep hesitated a moment too long and dove out of the way just as the Boznok sped by, but was hit by the Boznok’s shoulder, sending him tumbling to the ground. Rep groaned in pain, not immediately jumping to his feet.
“Help!” Zalan called to the others, but upon chancing a glance at them he saw that each other fighter had their hands full.
Yelsa was gracefully keeping her distance from the Boznoks trying to rush her, but she had no moment to aid Zalan and Rep. Gorb and Fran were taking ten Boznoks, holding them at bay to make sure Zalan and Rep weren’t overwhelmed. Zalan gripped his sword tightly and ran at the Boznok that was trading parries with Rep who was despairingly trying to stand up between defending himself from the mace. Zalan stabbed forward, only for the Boznok to spot him in his peripheral and bob backward, easily avoiding the sword. Zalan threw out his other hand and blasted the Boznok with lightning in its face. It receded a few steps and shook its head, growling in pain as Zalan helped Rep to his feet.
“It knows how to handle that mace,” Rep said, breathing heavily.
“I think I know how to handle it too,” Zalan said. “Distract it for me and give me some time to aim my lightning.”
Rep bit his lip reluctantly before nodding and rushing forward with his sword pointed straight at his adversary. The Boznok snorted in amusement and swung its mace confidently, throwing Rep’s sword way off trajectory and lodging it into the ground. Zalan didn’t mean to notice it as he aimed, but it seemed to him that Rep wasn’t a very good fighter. Between this fight and the one with the Flamestriker, he didn’t seem nearly as adept as Gorb or Fran. Or even Yelsa now that he’d seen her in action. In fact, Rep fought a lot like Zalan did, haphazardly swinging and hoping to connect his attacks.
Zalan brushed aside the momentary thought and blasted the Boznok’s mace with full lightning power for three seconds. The Boznok’s grip shuddered madly for those seconds before finally letting go of his weapon, the pain coming through the metal weapon into its hand was too much to bear. Rep tried desperately to pull his sword from the ground as Zalan rushed forward. Rather than try and retrieve its weapon, the Boznok headbutted Rep, sending him flying back into the grass just as Zalan closed the gap and swung his sword. The Boznok twisted its head quickly and caught the sword with his horns, but Zalan was getting used to using his lightning when his sword failed, and struck it in the eyes with another jolt of power. The Boznok roared in pain long enough for Zalan to free his blade from the Boznok’s horn and cut off the Boznok’s right arm at the shoulder.
The Boznok looked down at its detached arm in shock and then fell to its knees, holding the other arm up in surrender as it looked pleadingly at Zalan.
“Nice try,” Zalan said confidently, then kicked the Boznok over and stabbed it multiple times in the chest to ensure it was dead. He beamed at his first success and then turned around to see if he could be of any assistance to the others. Rather than the pandemonium that was going on moments before, he saw that the battle was over. Fran and Gorb had cut off the heads of all the Boznoks they faced and Yelsa had managed to get an arrow in both of the Boznok’s heads even at such close quarters. Zalan smiled at his companions, raising his arms.
“We did it!” he shouted proudly.
Only for them to reply by staring at him in abject horror.
