Out of the Hallow book one: REVISED

Chapter 2: Be subject to the Master with all respect

The Shallows, a swamp within the Hallow felt like a breathing entity. The eerie glow from the dancing microbes clinging to the cave walls added to the illusion. The bog waters shimmered, reflecting off of Teylavere's immaculate blade.

Within the area's fetid embrace, Eddipus advanced, gripping tightly on his broadsword. The air hung thick with humidity and the stench of rot. Each step was deliberate, avoiding the treacherous sinkholes and twisting vines. He scanned the murky waters with sharp eyes for the telltale ripples of the Nedib, a monstrous presence that haunts the Shallows.

A sudden splash to his right, and Eddipus spun, Teylavere singing through the air. A Nedib lunged from the water, its jagged teeth bared in a grotesque snarl. Its hulking form was concealed by a shroud of thick, matted fur, almost blending seamlessly with the surrounding dark. Eddipus would have mistaken it for a rock formation if it hadn't sprung forth.

The creature's eyes glowed with an eerie red, piercing through the shadows beneath its heavy brow ridge.

Bringing Teylavere up, Eddipus came close to the beast's face, a grotesque mask dominated by a gaping maw filled with needle teeth.

It lashed out with blind, primal fury, snapping its jaws.

With practiced ease, Eddipus parried the creature's clawed swipe, the Maiden of Blade meeting savage flesh. The Nedib shrieked, collapsing into the dark waters swallowing it whole.

He pressed on, muscles taut, every sense alert. The Shallows were a maze, but Eddipus was a brave and hardened warrior of the Red, he wouldn't allow his surroundings to slow his quest. His heart hammered with the rush of battle as he made his way to Master Dante's adobe.

The murk, muck and mire clung to him, a lover reluctant to part his boots as they sank into the sodden ground.

Teylavere felt alive, its ruby pommel glowing faintly, sensing the dangers all around, excited for the next cleave.

Ahead, another Nedib emerged, its spiny back rising from the swamp. It bared its teeth in anticipation of an easy kill, but Eddipus met its charge head-on. Steel clashed against bone as Teylavere sliced through, the creature's shriek cut short by a swift, fatal arc that sent it back into the abyss.

His breaths coming in measured gasps, Eddipus advanced, senses sharp as the blade in his grip. He navigated the treacherous terrain, leaping over stagnant pools that reeked of death.

Then, at last, the adobe came into view—a sanctuary amid gloom. Its simple structure built against the cave wall, was a testament to the steadfast nature of Master Dante.

As Eddipus approached, the unmistakable crackle of a fire reached his ears. The enticing scent of food enveloped him, a welcome reprieve from the foul stench of the Shallows he had left behind. He discerned a figure seated on a cold stone bench, stoic as Adeve.

"Warrior Eddipus," An old elven voice called out, rich with age. "I hear you has come to Clan Master Dante's. I has been waiting for you. I has known for some time, now."

There was a playfulness in Dante's tone. It was a dance of mystifying words that seemed to ease the tension coiled within Eddipus.

"Master," He questioned, "How did you know? Who could have told you?" He asked, hoisting a small boulder to use as a seat near the fire's embrace. The warmth caressed his skin, a stark contrast to the chill that clung to his bones.

Dante's eyes sparkled, the firelight dancing in their depths. "I Heard it, yes. Through the Ru'Vin'Ol..." A shiver ran through the wind, a ripple in reality that caused the tulip sapling's limbs to sway. The fire flickered as if being touched by unseen hands, casting long shadows of fingers across the cave walls. Eddipus felt it too, a warmth that crept beneath his skin and made his heart at peace.