A Wood Wose’s Wrath – as told by Cynewulf to Arkenbright
As our rumour had it a carl of the Swedish host, latterly vanquished by our Geatish force, had been trapped by a Wood Wose or Wose Wife in a grove of trees within a day’s march of our camp.
Guided by Hop, Stigund, Littleman and myself followed this rumour to discover a dense mass of trees, bushes and undergrowth nearby. At the edge of the grove Hop barked to announce our arrival and, as agreed, we set him to return to you.
The grove was cut by a narrow game trail or some such and we pushed our way forward in line. As we progressed I was attacked by what we now know as the Wose Wife whose grove this evidently was. All but invisible within her stand of trees, the Wose Wife was tall and strong. She struck to envelop. We can now see this as a Wood Wose tactic – if successful in getting both her strong woody hands on a victim their end would be rapid indeed. Fortunately for me her tactic did not succeed. Assisted by the protection you provided, which I had put on before entering the grove I avoided her forceful embrace.
Between the three of us we struck repeatedly at the Wose Wife. Stigund struck effectively with the francisca and Littleman with axe. For myself I hit with spear, but without result: as strong as a tree, I now see that Wozes suffer little damage from a weapon point, but cutting at the wight with sax proved better. Under our various blows the Woze Wife began to keen: high and loud – calling out to her mate no doubt. Then fell silent. At the same time first Littleman then Stigund were bitten below the waist. Grabbing at the source we caught a sprountling – a small Wose child.
Casting around under the Wose Wife we saw the remains of a warrior – and recovered birnie, helm, sword, shield and scramasax from there and nearby. As to the warrior’s body – it was thrust through with Wose roots and had decayed unnaturally from the wight’s feeding on him.
So began our march back to the camp – until after an hour we heard a loud and unnatural cry from the grove. The sproutling cried out in return – we saught to smother its noise and to make haste in returning toward the camp. The Wood Wose had returned to discover his mate slain – and fell was his wrath. How wrathful we would discover ere long…
As we marched through the wood, down from a nearby tree the Wood Wose leapt. Larger and stronger than his mate, his monstrous form was taller than a man and like unto a thick, aged tree. But at the same time he was nimble and snatched for his child with great speed. Under threat from the Wose’s attack we threatened to end his sproutling’s life – though at the likely cost of our own. The Wose shouted out his grief at the death of his mate and swore vengeance on all three of us.
He prowled around our small group, jumping from ground to tree-top and to ground once more, seeking to hit at us and to release his child: we swore it would die if he attacked. He swore in return that he could recognize our scent and none of us would leave this island alive. From first one angle then another the Wose’s fell agility and speed of attack slowed our pace and we now realized it was unlikely that we would make the camp before nightfall.
Faced with the prospect of further attacks Stigund snapped the stick you had given him to allow us a respite. Its power made the wight scream with rage and his huge, horny hands burned as he tried to hit and snatch at us, but still he came on… How long would our rune magic last he asked…
In such straights we made two decisions: Stigund winded the horn you had marked to summon assistance and we proposed to return the sproutling to the Wose if he would cease his attack and lets us proceed unmolested. He initially refused our offer – his wrath undiminished.
But, after a further period of prowling he proposed terms – he would forswear vengeance provided we left this island within a Sennight and did not return. We debated and decided to take the Wose at his word – demanding that he swear. He did so and we released the tree-child. It sprang towards its father and to his shoulder where he stroked it kindly. But for us he had no kind words: he had smelt us and would know us if we remained on the island. And while he had forsworn vengeance for his dead mate, his freed son had not – and we should look for him when he was older. Then, laughing fiendishly, he sprang once more to a tree-top and was gone.
We came on towards the camp when we heard martial sounds from ahead. We moved to find the party you had sent standing in defence – after having been attacked by the same Wose. He had surprised them and snatched one of their number from the party. Joining them we moved on – to encounter the dead body of their comrade impaled on the branch of a tree.
We took him down for burial and, so chastened, we returned to the camp…