A Gift from Dead Gods, 10.

“Show yourself!”, Luno shouted. No answer came. For several minutes, Fyanha and Luno looked around searching for the owner of that voice. Finally, Luno laid down his blades and sat down. He shook his head, “Coward.” Fyanha shrugged and sat down across the fire from him. “What he said was true though, champion.” She smiled. “Now we should rest. We have a lot of killing to do in the morning.” Luno nodded, “I’ll set some wards, in case that coward returns.” She smiled at him and laid down, pulling a blanket from her pack. “Good night, champion of murder.”

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Nathaniel ran through the forest to where he had left the gear he had stolen from a store in Adnar. Although he was over twice the size he used to be, he was still a thief. He hadn’t found any armor that would fit, so he had taken only food, water and some clothes, which he barely fit into. He still prefered it to running around completely exposed. On his way to the forest, he had stopped by a small farm, taking some of the more vicious farming equipment. If he had to use weapons, he could at least used weapons which were more his size.
When he reached the rocky hill he had left his messy pile of things, he stopped and crouched. Listening for a moment, he concluded the area was clear. He jumped on top of the hill, rummaging through the pile and picking out some fruit. He sat down and looked at the row of tools he had laid out. He had to attack tonight. If that champion of murder and the demon-girl attacked, they wouldn’t leave any dryads for him to interrogate. Picking up a sturdy looking pitchfork, he ran off towards the clearing where the dryads gathered.
As he entered the clearing he stopped. It was empty, the dryads weren’t there. “Hello, Nathaniel,” said a voice behind him. He turned and stared at the black-robed figure. “You,” he growled. “You’re the one who changed me.” The man threw back his hood and smiled. His skin was pale and his features sunken. His head was devoid of hair, except for a thin strip of hair on the side. He was smiling. “No, Nathaniel. That was my brother. Now, sleep.”
A familiar blackness filled Nathaniels head and he fell to his knees. He shook his head to shake of the veil and charged at the man, roaring ferociously. The man staggered backwards, “No! No! You must sleep, Nathaniel!” Nathaniel felt the darkness grasping at him, but it didn’t seem to hold. He grinned and roared again, the distance closing quickly. From behind a tree stepped another figure in black and before he could respond, the figure threw a bolt of lighting which caught him on the shoulder, his momentum hurling him to the forest floor.
When Nathaniel looked up, the men were gone. He had been so close. He stood up. Before he could turn, two sets of arms grabbed him. A soft voice came from just behind him, “Look what we’ve found.. A thief. Now, Nathaniel, it’s time for you to sleep.” He laughed, “Those sorcerors tried that too, it didn’t-“ His sentence was cut short by a hard blow to the head, and he fell into unconsiousness.