No Dreams In Darkness by cuarthol

Nan Dungortheb

Prompt: Weaving a tangled web

There was no easy way to climb back up to where she had started, and less reason to want to.  Instead she followed the trickle of water that wound its way through dense brush and moss-covered rocks - things she had barely ever seen before - following the slope of land down the far side of the hills.

Likely this was a path she would regret, if not for the lashing she’d take for being gone, then for the possibility of running into more enemies that had been pushed south by the assault.  But the land all around seemed silent, as if it swallowed up sounds.  It was not, however, empty.  She felt the dark things lurking about, and as she pushed further on her instinct to go back was growing.

By the time she had wandered deep into the valley she knew she had made a mistake.  Surely a fatal mistake.  Even her eyes, bred for the darkness, could barely discern the path ahead, and the dark - a tangible, pulsating thing - filled her with dread.

The eerie silence meant that the few sounds that did reach her ears were even more terrifying for it - a low, prolonged creak from the nearby trees, a strange skittering-clicking sound, and something she could only describe as a salivating exhale that felt far too close.  She whirled around, her blade swinging wildly, but it sliced only through air.

Kurn stumbled on, not even certain she was even going the same way now, for direction no longer seemed distinct and meaningful.

When she felt her feet plod into more than a mere puddle of water, she realized how very dry her mouth felt.  Stooping where she stood, she sucked up great handfuls of it before she sensed the foulness that ran in it.

She sloshed to the far side of the water and retched up as much as she could, but already she felt her stomach churning and her head spinning.  Onward she stumbled, knowing that to stop was to die here, but no longer fully aware of even herself let alone her surroundings.

The next thing she seemed aware of was being caught up in something strong and sticky, though struggling against it seemed to only make it bind her faster.  That was when a presence unseen but deeply felt descended upon her, the hair on her body standing on end and her senses suddenly sharpening.

Though unable to move properly, she managed to leverage her sword somewhat in the right direction - she hoped - and waited until she could almost feel hot breath on her skin before forcing the blade up with as much strength as she had left.

The scream that followed proved her aim was true, but as the thing retreated it took her blade with it.

She grumbled and cursed and flailed and pulled and managed to free one hand enough to grasp around on the ground for something - anything - that might render aid.

When her hands curled around a rock, sharp on one edge, she began to frantically slash at the webs holding her, cutting away the bindings.  Wiggling out of the too-large jerkin, she was free at last.