The trek continued for another hour, moving deeper into the edge of the outer ring of the Willow Mountains. The terrain grew unforgiving, shifting from soft forest loam to jagged rocks that crunched beneath their boots.
A foul odor began to permeate the air, a heavy, cloying stench of rotting meat that made the stomach turn.
Judas slowed his pace, his hand instinctively hovering over the hilt of his sword. His eyes scanned the dense undergrowth, looking for unnatural breaks in the foliage.
"Stop," he commanded softly.
Summer froze instantly. Her body dropped into a crouch, her crimson eyes narrowing as she peered into the gloom. "There is something ahead."
He pushed aside a large fern, revealing a small clearing.
Standing there was a humanoid creature. It was short, standing perhaps four feet tall, with leathery skin the color of dying leaves.
