Story of Stein, One
It had been a long night, the longest night. We were striding at decent pace beneath the canopy of the birches. Tasch was the oldest, so we followed his lead. He had heard word from Grun of some treasure awaiting the fortunate enough to find it, something he claimed to have learned of in a dream of his. His passion for adventure was truly admirable, albeit costly and slightly immature. But we all entertained his young and naive aspirations. After all, what else do six brothers who just lost their farm do but answer the call to treasure?
Eventually would come the time where our judgements would begin to fault. That time arrived precisely when we all agreed, some of us with much more hesitation than others, to enter the dark wooded forest.
Exhaustion came quickly. Dire thirst came quickly. It took a long while before we found a spring we considered safe to drink from, but I believe that Tasch still found pure water faster than any of us would have. The spring is where everything changed. The spring is where it all happened. The ambush.
Unbeknownst to us, we were being followed with clear-cut vigilance. Dunk was the first to be taken by the horde. There was simply no time for any of us to react, including him, the poor soul. An army of the undead poured from the bushes and shrubs. The five of us were sundered. We fought tirelessly, having nothing, we picked up sticks and stones from the forest floor and just hoped our efforts would be enough to scare them off.
The details that followed the initial moments are lost to me as I look back now, but my two surviving brothers claim additional details that I would have no room to speak on. The last thing I remember, before blacking out seemingly, was breaking out from those deep and dark woods. There was four of us.
-Stein
Story of Grun, One
Our journey would take us north, further north than any of us had ever dreamed of, even my own dreams of treasure could not manifest such natural beauty. North took us right to the foot of the snow-capped mountain we only ever heard of in passing. As the land beneath us kept getting higher, the wind would become more and more bitter. I found the flowers of the area intriguing. As we continued to climb the tall hills to reach the meadows, the flowers sat there in a lovely contrast of blues and yellows that bounced well off the birch woodland below.
Just over the hump, laid the dark woods. The place of evil that had stolen two of my brothers, and decimated the lives of my remaining two kin. Looking back fills me with such shame. I pushed for us to go in, it was my idea. I ignored the potential dangers, and now we reap the consequences.
After the initial fray, the five of us all fought valiantly, until the undead had successfully put a cleaver to our strength in form. There was just too many of them. I managed to flee, running back into Tasch in a panic. Something came over him, something I do not really understand, even now. He kept going on about these eyes, watching him. These purple eyes out in the woods, saying the eyes have always been watching him, not just in that moment. I was lost for words.
Tasch sat me down, taking hold of me, and holding a stare that felt like it was directly aimed to my heart. He promised me that he did not blame me, and I should not blame myself. Everything happened so fast, it felt like a goodbye, one that I did not care to accept. I think he knew something that he never intended to share. I think he made up his mind already.
Almost poetically, the horde caught up to us as his mouth had shut. When my oldest brother reopened his eyes, there was a furious passion in them I will never unsee. As he rose, that is when Stein broke into the clearing that we had found ourselves in. Tasch, a true hero, took the head of every enemy that reached for him. But all three of us knew that he would be overrun eventually. Stein went to pull him away, nudging him towards an opening. That is when the goliath came.
A rotting, living corpse that was coated in gold plate. Neither the goliath or my brother survived that encounter. We never even got to bury him. After having witnessed the death of two of my brothers, my body shut down. I do not recall anything more of that night.
-Grun
Story of Hai, One
The night came unintentionally early as we made way into a dark wooded forest. From the outside looking in, you could be entirely unaware of the dangers that lurk beneath the thick canopy. The place had an eeriness to it, but not containing any feeling of imminent danger, so we all had thought. From inside you would be quick to lose your way, your perception, then your mind would surely go. There are no paths, so we surely walked in loops, letting the threats catch us in their trap.
The forest started moaning sounds unknown to us. Specks of green unlike the leaves and shrubs began peeking through the bushes. Hissing sounds came from the dense canopy above. And the sound of a single arrow darting through the air.
Dunk was gone. And by the time Dunst and I had escaped the deep forest, he would soon be gone too. But we did escape, he saw the light of the evening glow just before his life fell to complete darkness. Stein and Grun made it out too, yelling that Tasch was gone too. So, it would be the four of us.
We stationed far enough from range of the forest, tucking ourselves against one of the nearby hills. There was a moment of tranquility, brief, but calming nonetheless. As the moment came to be that the sun would sink behind the landscape, there was a silence across the void. That silence then became broken as death darted from the birch forest below. An arrow that was made of bone had punctured the side of Dunst.
As quickly as we could muster, we all stumbled to our feet, finding our footing in the dark. Dunst wrapped himself around me so I could carry him up the hill. I may never show such a feat of physical strength like that in my life ever again. In the panic, I was alone with Dunst. Stein and Grun had inadvertently parted as well. Our party split yet again, now in the truest sense of the word, the night had fell upon us.
Dunst died in my arms late that night, sharing his last moments with me by painting his blessings for his family, our family. Dunst never put himself first. Always his brothers, no matter the circumstance. I buried him beneath the great oak tree, there is no joy in dancing with the dead.
-Hai
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