The tale of the strange sword had been more than an old sign. It had started as an urban telltale passed through generations, some of the folks Corian chattered with even claiming to have held its hilt in their very hands.

A sword bound to stone by black blood, tall as a man's torso. It called home a cursed land, where the very ground was said to swallow careless travellers whole.

Corian had heard a lot of tales about swords stuck in rocks. It was a common champion scam the fairy courts cooked up. Sometimes a gimmicky lure from spirits and creatures looking to be patrons or make a fool of mortals.

Regardless of its origins, all fingers pointed in the same direction.

It was no surprise that people went missing in the cluster of trees. Millstead's hills rolled off into the horizon, with little else for coverage on this side of the ravine. Corian was proof that ghouls held a heavy preference for the shade. Stonesong's neighbour was likely born of hungering undead rather than an old magical curse.

But who would have made the posterboard sign?

He walked into the first wall of fir trees, the golden grass tangling with wiry brown bushes and a thick mat of moss and mushrooms. There was some semblance of a trail, trampled dead from other adventurers.

After a manner of minutes, the hard dirt under Corian's greaves seemed to soften. The chill from the shade faded, and a subtle warmth rose from the earth and thickened the air. He could smell an odd scent, like old eggs, that plumed when he misstepped into a wetter patch on the ground.

The large firs around him grew sparse, replaced with strange trees he had never seen an alikeness of before. Their trunks bent at sharp angles, and their branches clustered in places to flaunt bushels of green leaves.

Strangest yet, their roots seemed to rise above ground, putting the plants on stilts to stand in the deeper patches of warm water.

He did the best he could to navigate the strange new terrain, the warm water sponging in his boots while he prayed the ground he walked on would not give out to the dark steaming ponds that surrounded him.

And then, through the crack of his helmet, he caught a glimpse of it across a boggy stretch of water.

Corian could see the sword. It was anything but the enchanted mythical weapon the poster had strung a tale on. It was a rusted stick of crap that had partially melted into the dark obsidian rock it was sticking out of.

He scanned the rest of the little marshy island, a couple thick trees barely standing above the water with their roots dotting its edges. Near their bases he could make out what looked like deep gouges, damage dealt by storm or an itchy animal, it was hard to tell.

But no children.

He listened patiently for a splash or chatter, skimming the underbrush for movement. Cautiously, he called out, the croaks and chirps of the fen his only response.

But patience allowed another noise to meet his ears. A misstep, and the shuffle of a foot sliding against a rock into a murky puddle. He turned, meeting the terrified eyes of a small blond child that had taken shelter in the roots of one of the odd trees.

The boy pulled back into the shelter.

Corian immediately laxed, trying an open palmed welcome for the terrified boy, and all the while scanning the roots for another child. "I was asked to take you back to Stonesong." He hushed, tapping the Heroguard crest on his breast. The boy still didn't move. "Tarson asked me. You know Tarson? Grumpy?"

A ghost of a smile twitched on the boy's face and he stepped away from the roots, recognizing the name but still timidly keeping his distance from Corian.

Corian took this chance to step closer, getting a better view inside the tangle of roots and mud.

Empty now that the child had stepped clear of the shelter.

He turned back to them, "Where's the other?"

The boy silently motioned higher up into the trees. What he had wanted him to see was immediately obvious without words. A rope ran across to one of the tall trees edging the island, taut by the weight of the other small blonde child shimmying his way across. The only thing keeping the kid from tumbling down into the muddy water was the arrow the rope had been tied to, that wiggled precariously in the bark of the tree every time the child advanced.

"Oi!" Corian boomed, not even earning a glance as the child carried on. "That's dangerous!"

The boy stopped, ducking his head back to glare at Corian. "Yelling don't help! I was here first, sword's mine!"

Corian sighed as the child carried on, eyeing the ground for some means to make it across the water himself and catch the brat on the other side. There was nothing convenient in the sops of drowned grass and rotted wood, and there was no telling how deep the water went.

He let out a deep sigh, watching the boy carefully reach the tree and settle in its branches. Once he squared his feet on a thick branch, he looked down at Corian, pompously puffing his chest. "Told you! I'm fine!"

Corian momentarily switched his attention to the still water when he heard a faint pop, watching a small trail of bubbles a ways off. It was not the first cluster he had heard. The water had been belching unsavoury stenches throughout his entire walk.

Another sound pulled him back to the boy on the island as he jumped from the tree and landed near the stone. His clothes were somewhat laughable. He had tied soft bark over his shins and forearms, and was wearing a poorly tanned pelt like a cape with a pointed stick tucked into his belt.

Corian watched another bubble rise and pop in the lake, his stress rising. The strange swamp had gone completely silent.

Had the bubbles gotten closer?

The boy wiped the mud off his hands, his eyes glowing with excitement as he grabbed the hilt of the blade and tugged.

It didn't budge. Corian was far from surprised. Anyone could tell from the way it was melded to the rock it was never going to come out. Even if it did, the black rocky veins that partially melted it into the stone had damaged it beyond weildability.

Corian hissed out a sigh between his teeth as the boy tried to leverage his pull with his legs. He was straining so hard under his task his face had turned red as a tomato.

"The story is fake. It's not magical." Corian called, his words falling on deaf ears as the boy turned to beating the base of the blade with a spare rock in the hopes of chipping it loose.

Corian looked around again for something to get him across the water. But it all seemed to slow as Corian glanced the murky water, another fat bubble rising up with a loud pop.

Definitely closer.

From where the latest bubble had popped, the muddy surface bulged as a fat shadow moved through the water, its rocky green spine careful not to cut the barrier and make a splash as it swam. Corian's body tensed with panic. He grabbed the child at his side, hoisting them up the closest tree for them to snag a branch and wordlessly comply with his plan. They gladly accepted the dagger he handed them, hugging it tight to their chest while they gawked at the shadow in the water.

"Climb back up!" Corian hollered.

The boy across the way raised his chin at him, giving the stuck sword another tug before he finally noticed the mass Corian was pointing at. The boy didn't waste a second, using the hilt of the blade to propel himself at the tree and scrabble up the branches. He lunged for the rope, wrapping his legs around it to curl himself as high as he could.

The water erupted around the massive beast as it hurled onto the small island, just barely missing the child with its snapping jaws as the tree shook from the impact. To everyone's horror, it was twice the size of the shadow it had cast in the water. Its ridged, mossy green tail was long enough to wrap around the little piece of land, with its thick body squeezed under the panicked child so it could look up with its pale jaws stretched wide. From the scaley rolls on its neck, Corian could guess it was fattened by many a failed attempt to obtain the 'mythical' blade. It could pass on the kid and go hungry for a day, but it was not one to give up on its lunch.

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Corian hadn't seen anything like the oversized lizard in front of him, but he knew he would have been halfway back to the village in a panicked flee when he once had a heartbeat to help along his anxiety. Now, he just gawked, holding enough clarity to weigh whether the rescue was worth the map and immeasurable amount of pain that reptile was going to put him through if he grabbed its attention.

But one thought cried louder than the rest.

Justin would try to save the kid, reward or not.

Corian tightened his helmet, and sighed.

He did a once over of the beast as he drew his blade. The pale green scales on its underside were potentially softer than the coat of armour on its back. There was clearly some soft pink flesh deeper down its open maw, if Corian decided to be stupid enough to ignore the rows of jagged yellow teeth jutting its mouth. It wasn't much of a plan. He had abandoned every monster hunting class in the Heroguard to ensure he could avoid his father.

Stabbing for the softest thing in reach until it went down, or fled, would have to do.

He called out to the creature, but it remained fixed on the struggling child. Corian wasn't surprised, the little holes in the side of its head would make for shit hearing if they were packed with swamp water.

Corian grabbed a small chunk of driftwood and hurled it. The little piece of debris bounced off the beast's forehead and into the water with a sad plop.

Where it hadn't done any damage, it had at least scored one success. The hungry creature slowly closed its mouth, now staring at Corian with one glowing lemony eye. A sharp hiss wheezed from its mouth as it slithered back into the water.

Corian waited for it to break the waves once more and charge at him, but the ripples in the murk settled.

And silence took the stage.

No one dared to move. The children watched from their own respective vantage points, pale with terror at the sight of what was basically a wingless dragon. Corian stepped closer to the water, trying to make out its shadow in the murk. But it had sunk deep. It knew how to make itself known, and how to disappear.

There was a special kind of terror that came with realizing the fat, toothy, killing machine covered in rock hard scales was also intelligent.

A small gasp cut the air above him, the child struggling to readjust his grip on the rope as his arms shook. Corian knew he wasn't nearly as tantalizing a treat as the child gradually losing his grip on the rope. A bite sized snack filled with warm blood and without a single piece of metal to get stuck between its teeth.

If the reptile hadn't been so fat, that child wouldn't have made it.

He came so close to the water the tips of his boots dipped into the mud. Still, he saw nothing.

Corian considered the hopeful option. That perhaps the boom of his voice had startled it. Or the shine of his armour was strange enough to make the beast think twice.

Had it fled? From one little scrap of bark hitting its head?

Corian squinted, his attention pulling to the sword, and then the surrounding trees. He had never come across a warm swamp. It was ugly, smelly, and stuck out like a sore thumb.

Perhaps he stood in an illusion, and the strange beast was a distraction for something more nefarious. Corian turned from the water, scrutinizing every detail, from odd twists in the branches, to stones that looked too round, to bushes and other shrubs that looked a little too much like their neighbours.

And then, he found the most blaring oddity of them all. A man stood in the trees, not trying to hide while he leaned against a nest of standing roots. He was close enough for Corian to see the smirk on his face, and the shadows that simmered off him where a stray beam of sunlight caught his arm.

Corian knew this guest was not responsible for his current predicament. Seeing as it had followed him from the ravine. It was the same man who wore Justin's skin. Still flaunting the trick Corian had long since shattered.

It watched Corian for a moment, making an obvious motion to look just past Corian at the water. Its smile grew to flash teeth, and it made an overblown gesture to bite the thin air.

Corian glared.

Until he heard a violent thrash behind him as the beast broke the waves. A wave of water soaked his back as he dived to the side, the sharp snap of the beast's jaws ringing in his ears. The bite had barely missed him, and left him prone in the mud while it twirled around for a second go. Corian leapt away from another snap, and swung his blade blindly. The steel bounced off a thick patch of scales on its neck, ringing in his hand with more damage to the blade than the beast.

It whipped its head to the side again, this time striking Corian square in the side and throwing him a few feet. The pain buzzed in his screaming ribs as he tried to stumble to his feet. But the beast, albeit a fat lizard, had the reflexes of a fox as it lunged across the mud to try for a third bite.

And this time three struck a charm.

He felt his bones crush as the creature clamped down on his right arm, rows of very real teeth piercing deep. The pain ripped a scream from his throat, every tooth that had caught him easily rending through the metal armour. The agony levelled to a steady frustration and he tried to get a steady hold on the beast's jaw to rip something off. Each scale was packed right across its head, and groove far to thin for him to wiggle his armoured fingers into.

Desperate, he tried to punch it's soft eye, his fury momentarily turning to confusion as it seemed to stretch into its socket elastically and pop back out without a knick or bruise.

Corian tried to move his trapped arm. He could feel the hilt of his sword right next to his hand in the beast's maw, also locked by its teeth. The panic set in. He had no other weapons, his teeth and claws were muzzled by his own armour… His dagger was sitting up in a tree... No magic would ever be there to assist him.

He punched the creature in frustration, earning a squeeze that jolted another cry of pain from him.

Instead of trying to get a better bite on him, the creature decided it liked what it had. Corian's feet rose from the air as he was violently jerked alongside the beast. It rolled, slamming him into the mud before taking him on another journey through the air and directly into the murky water.

His vision went black as the mud caked his visor, a rush of hot water invading his armour to bite at his eyes and the open wounds in his arm. Every impact as he was crushed against the bottom of the lake was muted, and his senses drowned with his cries. As the beast violently jerked him again, he had to remind himself through the sheer terror of his predicament that he couldn't die. No matter how long it held him at the bottom of the lake, he couldn't die. No matter how many teeth pierced his armour, he couldn't die.

…Right?

Corian closed his eyes, trying to calm himself through the pain. Every time he tried to move the creature thrashed. Biting his arm had been a preference. It could have dropped him blindly in the water and taken the chance for a fatal strike. But where was the fun in that? It wasn't starving for a meal. It wanted to slowly kill him.

That was its entertainment.

He slowly relaxed his body, sinking into the soft mud that it rested on. After a few seconds, the debris settled, and Corian could barely see blurry specks of sunlight far above him.

The beast clenched its jaw, trying to get a rise out of him. But he endured, remaining as still as possible, waiting in hopeful pain that the creature was gullible.

A few more seconds passed, and he felt its jaw lax, then open. The pain of its teeth tearing free of his armour, and the hot muddy water filling in the holes, was a burn he hadn't prepared for. He dug his fingers into the mud, gritting his teeth through the fire as the thrumming pain beat to a tune of vengeance. He wasn't going to be satisfied until he returned the reptile's toothy favour. All he needed was something to prick back.

He could feel the iron hilt of his blade brushing his fingertips, but his arm was going to be a new problem. It was definitely still attached, but he couldn't move it anymore. Not for now. Corian twisted, tearing his arm free from the last few lodged teeth before the beast snapped its jaws shut. The whirling rush of water returned as the creature thrashed to try and find Corian in the murk, its fat tail catching his side and slamming him into a wall of submerged roots and dirt.

Corian gripped the net of roots, pulling himself up to break the water. He gasped for air out of instinct, spitting mud and gravel out while trying desperately to blink some clarity back into his vision. A wave of water rose over his back as the beast flailed around to face him with a snarling hiss. It readied to lurch at his exposed back, when something struck its snout, the tiny twig falling off its thick scales to bob in the water in front of it.

It lashed upwards to bite at the thin air, staring at the small child in the trees. Far out of reach and holding another pitiful twig to hurl. But the harmless attack had earned its crunchier snack a window of opportunity, and Corian clambered onto the small island, his wounded arm still limp at his side as he dragged his body close to the stone bound blade for poor coverage.

It charged, its body haphazardly striking the stone so it could wrap its head around and try to take another bite out of Corian. He fell away from its head and landed on its tail, barely toppling off the ridged obstacle and into a bush before it tried to fling him again.

He could feel the sensations returning in his injured arm, as well as his rage rising at the lack of windows the beast was providing him to get up and do anything really. The beast hissed again, its body crushing against the stone and the blade again as it squeezed between it, and a tree to bite at Corian. This time, the bite was direct, two jagged jaws closing in on either side of Corian. He had little time to do anything but throw his arms and legs up to try and resist the powerful bite, finding himself curled into a tight ball as he fought a losing battle against the monster's jaw strength.

A few more seconds and he knew his strength was going to give out. Then the beast's jaws would fold him like a fresh sheet. But he found a strange inspiration in his predicament, namely the soft and fleshy tongue his boots were pressing against. Corian found the closest tooth within reach and ripped it loose, driving it straight through the soft flesh with a spray of blood. The beast jerked its head and threw Corian loose. He scrambled to pick himself up and out of the mud, his hand finding an oddly shaped root.

Or… not quite a root.

He started at the crappy blade, a few new cracks at the base of the stone giving him hope. Even if the rusted thing lasted one swing, that was one hit he could land. Corian squared his feet, gripping the hilt with both hands and tugging with all his might. The blade came loose with a chunk of the cracked stone, and rose above his head with ease. The added weight propelled his strike with deadly momentum, as the sword and stone came crashing down directly on the beast's skull.

With a satisfying crunch, a new, sweet scent filled the air. The beast had grown still, its half crushed skull oozing blood and other juices under the chunks of stone that had shattered loose from the impact. Most of the blackened veining stone had stayed fixed to the rusty blade, leaving it oddly spiked at the end. Corian had expected the blade to break from the impact. But through its thick coat of rust, it had stayed strong. A pleasant surprise, for an otherwise shitty situation.

"Woah! You made that look easy!" A voice squealed from above him, the small child it belonged to already lowering himself from the rope.

He sighed, remembering exactly what had landed him in this shitty situation to begin with.

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