Read Online BlackThorn's Doom by Dewayne M Kunkel - Free Book Online Page A

Kalmari, the iron rods striking with such force that the giant was nearly knocked from his feet with each blow.
    Yoladt slipped in the crushed pulp of trampled vegetation and was struck by the creature. It was a glancing blow, one of the giant’s claws tearing a long gash across his forehead.
    As he went down under the force of the strike Connell rushed in. With both hands he drove the point of his sword into the giants neck and up into its brain.
    Dark blood gushed out and covered him as the beast fell onto its side dead. Wrenching his blade free Connell turned in time to witness Suni leaping onto the other attackers back. With inhuman strength he grasped the giants jaw and twisted until the woods echoed with a resounding snap as the brutes neck shattered.
    Suni nimbly stepped off the falling creature and landed gracefully alongside Marcos. A quick look assured him that his charge had suffered no ill.
    Marcos sheathed his blade and looked about, a worried expression upon his face. “Where is Casius?” He asked the exhausted men. “Casius!” He shouted no longer fearing discovery. The sounds of their combat should have been heard for several miles.
    Connell and Suni looked about in the reeds fearing the worst.
    “Over here!” Casius answered as loudly as his bruised ribs would allow. He levered himself up to his feet using the moist trunk of a tree for support.
    His back ached and he had a large lump on the back of his head. Gritting his teeth against the pain he stretched out his back and inhaled deeply. Sprites of color swam through his vision and his balance was slightly off.
    “Are you injured?” Connell asked looking his friend over.
    Casius shook the cobwebs from his head. With a shaking hand he pointed to Yoladt. “I’ll be fine, nothing compared to Yoladt’s wound.”
    The Mahjie warrior’s face was covered with his own blood. The deep gash across his forehead bled freely down his face and onto his clothing.
    “What are they?” Casius asked Marcos walking to the nearest body.
    “I do not know.” Marcos replied. “They appear to be kin to the Morne.”
    “The Mahjie have no lore concerning them.” Yoladt answered with a grunt as Connell tightened a makeshift bandage across his brow.
    Marcos nodded. “I doubt they have ever been seen by men before.” He said examining the face closely. “These were Morne once, but Sur’kar has warped them. He used his power to attempt creating a breed of great warriors.
    “This forest is apparently his dumping grounds. We should be very cautious. More of his failures may wander this wood.” He stood and examined Casius more closely.
    “You are fortunate indeed,” He said stepping back. “A few scrapes and bruises, nothing serious.”
    “I wonder how many more of their ilk wander these trees?” Casius asked pulling on his pack.
    “There may be many more, and some things far worse waiting to be discovered.” Connell answered.
    Suni motioned for them to follow and melted into the brush, leading the way east. Though moving quickly he carefully choose a path that would leave little sign of their passage.
    They traveled another five hours before settling in for the night within the scant shelter provided by a fallen tree.
    Weary from combat and their arduous trek through the wood they forced down some food and fell fast asleep. All save Connell and Suni who had volunteered for the first watch.
    In the morning Marcos washed out Yoladt’s wound and sewed the still seeping gash shut with a needle and thread taken from their supplies. The Mahjie sat quietly, only the clenching of his fist betrayed any sign of the pain he was enduring.
    “You must keep this covered and clean.” Marcos advised him as he worked. “The risk of infection in this place is great.”
    They broke their fast and set off once more. The land began to descend and the trees grew further apart. Great pits yawned in the forest floor. Their bottoms filled with pools of bubbling mud that leaked