The peal of enraged tribal warcries
reverberated beneath the lush canopy provided by
ancient trees.
Spears arced through the air and
the ground upon which the three companions ran
came alive to oppose their egress.
Walls of briars sprung up around them,
yet they ducked, wove, and ignited each
as they raced to the edge of the forest
and freedom.
The wails grew nearer, though.
Ducking into a rocky outcrop
the three shed their cumbersome robes.
One, an elfen, produced a newly wrought dagger
and thrust its point determinedly into the stone beneath
the others, watching in reverence as
the picture was etched.
They forgot, for a moment.
Too soon their tracks were discovered
but with the rub of his serpentine necklace
the elfen conjured a wall of ice to bar entrance to their
alcove.
They heard the plated bodies outside thrown against it
and chips of ice flecked onto
the cavernous floor.
It would not hold.
Together, with linked arms and tips of fingers
and thumbs pressed tight
they bowed their heads.
As the final chips of ice crashed down
the monstrous howls of the serenguard outside
flooded within.
They hacked, and sawed, and speared
the trio with great vigor
until blood flecked the cavern walls as
a testament to their malice.
It seeped across the stone and
amalgamated.
It flooded into the newly debossed etching
on the cavern before which
the three had prayed.
It filled a stone ouroboros with their blood and
They Were Legion.