Phoenix on the Run

J’orik had been running for his life for what seemed all night when exhaustion finally overcame him. He found a dense thicket of brush, laid down, and fell asleep. The next morning he awoke in a cold sweat. He’d been dreaming about the attack on the village. The memory was so vivid that he couldn’t get it out of his mind. He sat there playing it over and over in his head wondering why it had happened.
The attack came at dusk. A horde of creatures, unlike anything he’d ever seen, simply overran the village. They were everywhere. Dark, hairy things dressed in black, heavy leather armor that matched the color of their skin. Their faces looked like someone had cut off the head of a boar and set it atop their huge shoulders. They only stood about five feet tall but with the steel helmets they wore and their massive size they appeared much larger. They came in from the beach like a swarm of bees and began destroying the village. People were screaming and running for their lives. Homes were being set afire. And these creatures seemed to be killing everything that got in their way, without any apparent reason. He fought back as best as he could, killing a few of the attacking creatures and being wounded several times in the process. He took an arrow in the arm and was cut several times. The pain was excruciating but he continued fighting. He pulled the arrow out and ignored the pain as he fought. He remembered thinking about the people that had raised him, the people he had come to call his mother and father. He wanted to go to their aid so he fought his way in that direction. The home was already on fire as he burst through the door. His father was gone and his mother lay on the floor dead. She’d been sliced open at the waist and her blood was pooled around her. Tears came to his eyes. He knew there was no time now to mourn He needed to get out of there and try to save himself. He grabbed the pack next to his bed that he kept ready for when he went hunting and strapped it on his back. He took one last look at his mother, tears still in his eyes, and headed for the door. There were heavy footsteps outside so he peeked out to make sure it was clear before exiting. The house was beginning to cave in and he knew he didn’t have much more time before it completely collapsed so he rushed out with his sword ready. The house was near the edge of the forest, furthest from where the attack came from. Realizing there was nothing more he could do, he took one final look back at the village and the destruction that was being wrought. Then he turned and ran into the forest.
He had no idea who or what had caused the attack or even why his village had been the one attacked. All he knew was that he had barely gotten away with his life.
He was sore, not only from fighting in the village but from running through the night. He began checking his wounds and found that most of them were beginning to heal. The one wound he knew would take a little longer was the arrow he had taken in the arm but the scratches, cuts and abrasions had already begun to close and heal and the pain from the arrow wound was beginning to subside.
The forest around him was filled with the sounds of the forest beginning another day. He wasn’t sure what time of day it was but it seemed like it was late in the morning. He was familiar with this forest – Murwood Forest. He hunted in it on a regular basis. He had traveled from one end to the other learning of its plant and animal life. Murwood Forest was long in a north-to-south direction stretching the full length of Lake Wishik along its eastern shore. It had an east-to-west spread of about a full day’s walk along the road that cut through the middle of the forest. The trees were tall and had large, dense canopies of branches and leaves this time of year. There were some spots where the trees were so dense that very little light even reached the forest floor. The forest floor itself was just as densely populated with brush, fallen trees, and broken branches, so there was always enough wood just lying around to build a campfire when needed. He had never come across an open area big enough to be considered a meadow. The forest provided enough food for the animal life so there was always good hunting. There were deer, rabbit, turkey and quail. There were other, larger animals he could hunt but those were further north and less common or if he just happened upon them wandering too far south. There were only three well-marked trails running east-to-west through the forest, one each near the north and south ends and one running generally through the middle. The middle trail had been cut wide enough to accept wagon travel and was more like a road. The other two were more suited for foot travel. There was also a multitude of creeks that meandered through the forest from the Great Plains towards Lake Wishik with pools appearing periodically along their path. Lake Wishik bordered the western edge of the forest with the Arrget Mountains ranging across the northern end. Beyond the eastern edge of the forest the Great Plains spanned for almost a seven-day walk before rising up into the Dorguri Mountains. And at the south edge of the plains the Great Desert began, stretching south as far as the eye could see.
Since running from the attack on the village he hadn’t been able to feel at ease, in fear that he’d been pursued by those ugly disfigured creatures that had attacked the village. He still took some time out to snack on a couple of biscuits that he kept in his ready pack. He always had a pack filled and ready to go with things that he needed when he left the village and went hunting. When he was hunting he never knew how long he would be gone so he always kept his pack stocked with enough food to last at least four days. The pack was also filled with an extra over-shirt, some first aid supplies, some dry biscuits wrapped in a cloth, a flask filled with water and a flint for starting a fire. On the outside of the pack he kept a bedroll and a length of rope attached, along with a knife and a small hand axe. He also carried a short sword, which was always at his side; a crossbow, which was his weapon of choice; and two knives, which he always wore attached to his boots.
After eating and calming down some he decided, that since the attack and the distance he had run, it was unlikely he had anyone, or anything, following him any longer. Gathering his things together he began another day traveling through the forest, thinking about the attack on the village and what might have brought it on.
The village was situated on the western edge of Murwood Forest a short distance from Lake Wishik. But now, because he had been running for his life and not thinking about where he was running, he was unsure exactly where he was. So, as he walked, he also took some time to look around and attempt to determine where he might be. He was familiar with the forest simply because he hunted in it on a regular basis. Not only was he a hunter, he was also one of the best trackers around, so it didn’t take him long to figure out where he was. He was east and a little north of the village. Given the time that had passed and the fact that he had been running almost non-stop since the attack, he figured it was still a little more than a day’s walk before he would reach the eastern edge of the forest and the beginning of the Great Plains.