The Knotted Wood

In the distance, a storm brewed. In the hours it took for the somber yet hopeful party to reach the twisted treeline, the storm had made its way above their heads. The winds tossed at the branches of the trees, occasionally knocking a twig or a branch down to the floor. It made the forest chatter in cracks and groans, a language of foreboding.

There were hardly any bushes or grasses on the floor here. It made sense, as there was little light to give them sustenance. Lichen hung from the trees, moss clung to stone, and a variety of fungus sprouted from anything that laid to rest forevermore. At another time, it could have been enchanting. With the storm and a roll of thunder so deep it rattled in their chests, it just felt like a trap.

Now and again, eyes would peek out at them from any corner of the forest. Further in, sitting upon an outcrop, was what could only be described as a wolf. It wasn't exactly a wolf, with its large yellow eyes, ruddy antlers, and rounded ears, but it was definitely wolf-shaped, and it regarded the group with scrutiny before wandering off when they got too close. It never truly left, just wound through the trees near enough to track them without feeling like an immediate threat. Its coat was a shaggy grey with a green-tinted mane, allowing it to blend in with the moss-laden rock of the forest floor.

Further ahead, the gauntlet stopped pointing them forward and kept them circling around a particularly fat tree with a network of tunnels made from its roots beneath. There didn't seem to be anything suspended in the branches, not that they could see. So was it beneath?

Beneath the tree, the tunnels were made of walls of wood and dirt, no light there to guide them. Small insects crawled away as Astrid made her way through it. In the wind, the great conifer groaned, speaking to the other trees around it. Little bits of dirt loosened and spilled onto the warrior as she turned a corner, sticking to the sweat on the back of her neck. It was musty in there, thick with loam and years of nesting animals finding home in such a reliable den.

Deeper in, the shine of something at the very center of the twisted roots yearned for Astrid's attention. Within them was an entire lego of armor with the cuisse, poleyn, greave, and sabaton. Just like the rest of the armor, it was too small for anyone to fit in and seemed as though it was modeled to be a leg, not to fit over one. The way the roos grew around it made it seem as though Astrid would be hard-pressed to wrestle it free.

Outside, the wolflike creature that had been following them approached the tree. Upon seeing Ásbera, however, it paused, staring at her.

As the creature edged closer to the tree, even though it hesitated to let the arrow hit the ground in front of it instead of piercing its eyeball, the tree began to... shift. At first, it was a shudder, and even though she was underground, Astrid would feel it. It shuddered again and again as she hacked away at the roots, and when she finally freed the leg, there was a massive groan. It echoed through the air, old and slow, as trees were when they were soon to fall. But this one? It swayed, but not to one side, not to crash to the forest floor, but back and forth, as though trying to shake Ásbera from its canopy.

And below, the roots would rear up as snakes would, about to strike, and sped after Astrid.

When Ásbera paused to speak to the tree, the wolflike creature stopped in its tracks and gave her an odd look, head tilted to the side as though confused. The tree did not answer her, but its branches did move to point at the woman, pausing for just a moment before they shot out at her with a fearsome speed. The same happened to Astrid, roots picking up the pace to try and snare her ankles.