Without another word they made their way north through the tangle of trees and vines. The deeper they went, the more their feet sank into the soft earth. They travelled without incident for several hours, twice having to lie low as a swarm of the wasp-like creatures flew by. After a while they found that it was impossible to continue north. Huge trees, their branches inter-woven, blocked their path. "We must decide which way to turn," Rorke said, a concerned look on his face. "One way is as good as another, it would seem." "Let us the delay the decisions for a while," Knightshade said wearily. His legs were aching from walking on the constantly yielding ground. Finding a log nearby, he sat down and removed his chain boots. Rorke seemed impatient to continue, but sat down beside him a moment later. Knightshade sighed. "Would I be wrong in assuming there is no ale in that pack of yours?" he said. Rorke laughed loudly. "Aye my friend, you would be wrong." He fished in his pack for a few moments before pulling out a skin of ale. After taking a swig he handed it over to Knightshade. "I always carry a skin of ale with me when I travel. It is one of the many lessons taught to me by a dear and trusted friend." Knightshade handed the ale back and then pulled his boots on again, ready to leave. It seemed that Rorke however, was in the mood for talk. He was smiling to himself, lost in his own memories when he spoke. "Though we came from different lands and have known each other for only a short time, this man is more of a brother to me than any living soul. We have fought many battles side by side, and his size is such that he could easily take me when we spar. Many a flask and jug were drained between us in taverns all over our land. He is the one, you see, that will soon be my brother by marriage. Alone all of his life, with none for company but his comrades in battle, he spent only a short time at the castle with me, yet he was quite smitten by my dear sister. Since then, he has filled my ear with his dreams of their life together. His plans to build a home in the quiet of the mountains are quite detailed, and he would speak of them for hours if you let him." "Where is this warrior now?" Knightshade said. "Should his place not be at his lady's side?" "He trusts that she is quite safe within the Realm," Rorke said confidently. "And he has no fear of her giving her love to another, for she considers him her world. Several months ago, he felt the need to go to a place where he could be alone with his thoughts and seek advice from those with greater wisdom. After being alone for so many years, leaving the battles in his past and adjusting to a life as a husband and provider weighs greatly on his mind. He needed to take some time away from the castle, though he longs so greatly to be by her side. She has a ring he gave her to remind her of his great love, and that bond will not be broken." "I noticed the ring," Knightshade said, remembering the ring he had seen at the meeting. "It was the sapphire that caught my eye and earned my admiration. His love must indeed me great if its beauty is the measure." Rorke smiled. "I can still recall the day that we fought a granite ogre and found the sapphire in its dead hand. He had it set into a gold ring, and gave it to her as a symbol of his love for her." "It was obvious to me that she cherishes that ring," Knightshade said. "Many times in our short meeting did her free hand touch the ring, as if its feel gave her strength and reassurance." Abruptly, Rorke took a long drink from the skin of ale in his hand. "We must make haste. Night may fall upon us in a matter of moments in this land where time has no sense. My friend has often told me, that if you know not which path to take, go to the right. We shall head east." Knightshade did not answer immediately. Something had caught his eye. Rising he headed a few paces to east. Bending down he examined the ground. "Look here. If I am not mistaken there are foot prints heading east." Rorke knelt beside him, staring at Knightshade's discovery. "Well spotted, sir. They are smudged, but they look human. My friend has a mysterious way of being correct when he offers advice." They followed the footprints for half an hour, before they disappeared into a scum filled pond. On the other side of it, was a huge stone embankment with a cave opening at the front. If this was the enemy camp, there were no guards at the entrance, as there should have been. "Let us have a closer look," Rorke said. With that, he entered the water, being careful to make no noise. Knightshade followed close behind him. When they reached the cave entrance, they saw moss covering the walls inside, giving off an unusual green light that revealed a tunnel. They could see that the tunnel went for only a short distance before it turned sharply to the left. Rorke motioned for Knightshade to follow, as he crept quietly down the tunnel, stopping at the bend. Carefully, they looked around the corner. What they saw was not an enemy camp. After the bend, the tunnel opened out into a huge cavern. Moss and lichen glowed faintly on the walls, revealing a large wicker cage which sat against the far wall. Bones, fur and other grisly objects lay scattered on the ground around it. Inside the cage was a young man. Standing nearby was a bulky, but not tall man-shaped creature with large wings. It was as green as the swamps that it lived in, it's body covered in the algae found on top of swamp water. A terrible stench of death and decay emanated from it. It had its back to them, but when it turned around it revealed the hideous features of a daemon. Rorke cursed softly. "It is a Bog Daemon. That man will feed its hunger if we don't help him." Knightshade nodded. "Can we kill such a creature?" "I have fought a daemon and survived," Rorke said. "But it is no easy feat, and one I was hoping not to try again. Normally I would say leave it be, but I cannot stand by while that man is its prisoner. We must free him, if we can." "Very well," Knightshade said. "I will try to freeze it until we can get close enough to attack." Steeling himself, Knightshade waited until the daemon had turned his back again, before stepping out in the open. Quickly he recited the spell that would cover the creature in a coating of ice, freezing it temporarily in place. A small ball of icy air, coalesced in front of him and shot forward striking the creature. The bog daemon only had time to turn around halfway before it was locked in place as the ball of ice spread out, covering it from head to toe. As soon as Knightshade cast the spell, Rorke ran at the creature sword in hand. He had almost reached it, when the young man in the cage yelled out a warning. "It is not alone! Look out!" Rorke had no time to halt his charge, and tripped over a creature only half his height, that had rushed out from the side of the cave where it had been hiding. Except for its small size, it looked almost identical to the bog daemon. Rorke growled in frustration as he batted the creature away with his sword, from a prone position. "Felled by a swamp imp! Of all the cursed luck." Rorke had just managed to regain his footing when four more appeared, casting venomous spells in his direction. He grunted as the evil magic struck his body, but did not cry out, as the spells cast by these creatures were more of a nuisance than a damaging force. Testing his ankle he found that he had twisted it when he fell. Knightshade had not been idle though and had ran to his friend's defense, using magic and steel to dispatch two of the meddling little creatures. Rorke, twisted ankle and all, still held his own against them, and soon they were all dead. They had barely managed to catch their breath when the prisoner yelled out another warning. "The daemon is almost free!" Cursing again, Rorke tried to take a few steps, despite the searing pain in his ankle. Knightshade stood at his friend's side, sword ready, as the huge monster shook off the ice that had kept it motionless, and raised its hands to cast a spell. Knightshade was quicker however, slashing at it with his sword, and disrupting its concentration. The spell fizzled, and the creature roared in frustration. Stepping back, Knightshade sent a whirlwind at it, but the creature flexed its wings deflecting it harmlessly away. Once again, the daemon raised its hands to cast a spell, this time successfully sending a cloud of poisonous gas at Knightshade. Knightshade held his breath as the cloud struck him. He had avoided being poisoned, but the cloud struck his armour, penetrating it and burning his clothes beneath it. Knightshade exhaled in great pain as it blistered his skin, and seared the flesh beneath. Rorke used the distraction to swing at the creature. His huge sword bit deep, wounding the beast. Knightshade recovered quickly, and also closed in on it. They struck at the creature repeatedly, preventing any chance of another spell, but the daemon used its huge and powerful wings to attack them. Knightshade was so busy attacking and dodging the daemon's claws, that he failed to see one of the huge wings sweep forward at him. The claw on the top of the wing, connected solidly with the side of his head, knocking him to the ground, a few feet away. Knightshade felt blackness overcome him, but struggled to stay conscious. With one threat taken care of, the daemon concentrated on Rorke who fought valiantly with only one good ankle. Knightshade tried to cast a spell to aid him, but the words kept slipping from his mind. Rorke struck many deep blows that obviously hurt the creature, but it was still standing. Eventually it used Rorke's weakness to its advantage. During its next attack, it used a wing to sweep at the warrior's legs. Rorke tumbled backwards, his sword slipping from his hand as he fell. He landed on his back, his pack doing much to break his fall. The pack was opened by the force of the fall, and the orb Millie had given him tumbled out. Frantically, he reached for the rolling orb as the daemon prepared to finish him off. After what seemed an eternity, his hands closed around the orb. Unskilled in the ways of magic, Rorke held it out in front of himself, unsure of how to summon forth the lightning that would slay the beast. Knightshade struggled weakly to stay awake. "You must will it to work," he said, weakly. "You must believe that the power is yours to command." Taking a deep breath, Rorke held it out in front of him and closed his eyes. In his mind he conjured up the image of lightning striking the daemon and desperately willed it to happen. His eyes flew open in shock as the orb became warm, and a loud crash of thunder reverberated throughout the cave. He was just in time to see a huge, glowing bolt of lightning appear above the startled creature, striking it with deafening force. The bog daemon glowed for a brief moment before self-destructing in a flash of white light. Only a pile of ashy remains marked its existence. Seeing that the danger had passed, Knightshade finally allowed himself to relax, and he slipped peacefully into unconsciousness. 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