vanished into the brush, too fast to be grabbed. Iirevale ran after her, forgetting his better judgment and duty. The company of elves turned toward a disheartened Gaiberth, who, at once accepting the loss, began to instruct them with a course of action against the warpede.
Calan ran north as fast as her strong legs would carry her, parallel to the trail. Trying with all his strength, Iirevale could not catch her, though he ran only yards behind. She flickered in and out of vision: he caught sight of her, only to lose her again behind a bend of thickets or branches. Ahead in the distance Iirevale could hear another noise on his right, coming from the road. He glanced in that direction to witness a man running along the main trail—it was Adacon. Suddenly, Calan cut out of the dense jungle and onto the trail, alongside Adacon, surprising him, and they ran north together. Iirevale manifested a fiery burst of energy from his spirit, and cutting back onto the trail he caught up with them.
“At least let me join your miserable rank then!” Iirevale shouted. “So that we might kidnap this maddened gnome and return him to our company alive.” Adacon and Calan continued running at human speed, and Iirevale took the lead.
“You know you’re both mad—completely mad,” Iirevale chided.
“Not as mad as Remtall, at least,” Adacon said, smiling at the company of the elves. “Who’d have guessed he could run so fast?”
“I feel the quaking of the warpede,” Iirevale said, and Calan nodded, though to Adacon’s dull human senses nothing could be felt.
The three pressed on fast, rounding a sharp corner that led them to a vine-girded stretch of road. Adacon finally felt the vibrations; noises of thrashing, and the cracking of tree trunks echoed at them from ahead. Another bend came in the trail, circumnavigating an outcropping hill of thorns. After the road wrapped back around, the runners beheld Remtall, standing in a cleared field of splintered trees. The trail disappeared where the warpede-strewn carnage of mangled branches and felled trees buried the road—and directly in front of Remtall was an erect monster, glinting in shining gold armor: there upon its many-legged haunch stood the warpede, a Gazaran. It reared its head, and down its abdomen, on either side, ran a thousand-spiked row of wriggling feet. It looked to Adacon like a horrific worm, covered in armor, several yards in girth, countless yards long. The creature’s face undulated with writhing mandibles of pus-ridden needles, the frightening teeth that protruded from all sides of its armored head. Remtall stayed his feet before the giant centipede’s uncoiling body, and the two locked into a stare of death. The warpede dove toward the tiny gnome, mouth gaped, and several pincers seized Remtall to feed him into its jaw.
“No!” Adacon shouted, rushing forward, tackling Remtall out of the grip of the pincers; in confusion the warpede struck its armor-plated head into the earth, burying itself several feet down. All about them the jungle was destroyed, leveled by the rancor of the centipede, and a Feral slime coated the trees wherever the creature brushed against them. In a frenzy the warpede struggled to withdraw its head from the earth; Remtall broke from Adacon’s grip and plunged his dagger into a slit between the beast’s armor. Putrid black ooze coursed from the wound; the warpede shot up from the earth with a high-pitched squeal, again facing its attackers. The centipede launched itself high, opened its jaw, and shot down for another strike. Adacon drew his elven sword and shield; Remtall stood with a dagger in one hand and his elf blade in the other.
“Drive home to my spike, foul worm, and be glad I give a better fate than has become you!” screamed Remtall at the armored face of the creature; its body was nearly covered in golden plate mail, so that its skin revealed only at several spots. Its eyes were unguarded, and Remtall angled his blades to pierce the warpede blind.
Unexpectedly, mid-plunge, it swung around its whip-like girth, using itself as a tail, surging forward; from the sides of the warpede’s frame, which erect stood thrice as tall as Adacon, barreled its legs encased in armor, needle sharp: the swipe of its body landed quick, knocking Adacon and Remtall to their feet. The centipede returned its jaw to its fallen victims and lunged again where they lay collapsed.
“Meet the jungle’s own!” Calan shouted. Iirevale launched her atop the back of the warpede;