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Sorry for the delay—workload and internet problems...

the forest dwellers preferred to rely on the same-wise Druids, seasoned in battles with enemies of the forest.

The comma after "forest" should be... and, seasoned in battles with enemies of the forest, Druids.

These are just and devoted servants of Silanna – the goddess mother earth.

"Goddess" is needed here, AND maybe capitalized? Goddess Mother Earth—is that better, more correct?

But recently a battle with the undead took place in the grove. The battle was short, but extremely cruel and bloody. And while the council of druids led by Hilael discussed what happened with other guardians, among the students of the school of combat dance there was also a leisurely conversation about the event. Everyone was stunned by what had occurred and put forward their own versions of the incident. But one elf stood out among the other students. Throughout the entire conversation he remained silent and simply calmly listened to the various versions of those speaking. The name of this elf was Silbern.

Is this referring to the meeting described by Zeratul? It seemed to me that elders should seclude themselves from everyone... like Kalgi used to do. So Hilael should also be alone—so that no one overhears... you never know... Rewrite the sentence, removing any mention of a council.
And about the school—what exactly were the young students discussing among themselves? The recent attack by zombies and other creatures, or Agremay's betrayal and the loss of part of the artifact? Obviously, they shouldn't have known about the artifact at all. Therefore, they could only discuss the attack and be stunned by this event...
What happens next?.. There is a list of those killed... What can adult elves do after a battle? "Lick" (heal) wounds, interrogate captives (if any), report losses and victories of the battle to higher command (the commander-in-chief)... What can the youth do? Get in the way, brag about trophies (a cleaver snatched from a zombie's corpse or something similar), they might help with the wounded and so on...
In other words, just try to visualize the situation and think about who does what after a battle. Are you a student? Imagine that a crowd of over a hundred people gathered in your city square, brawled, and fought. An ambulance arrived—tending to the injured; the police arrived—breaking up the fighters and investigating; onlookers, old women gathered... youth (students, high schoolers) are running back and forth, talking... Now imagine that this scuffle was much larger—a homemade bomb was thrown, someone had a knife or brass knuckles... No longer just wounded—there are victims.
If elves love their kin (relatives, friends), they should feel depressed, grieving... Maybe one of the parents of these students of yours was killed in battle... But from your text, none of this is clear—the youths are leisurely discussing the event. Even an event where two students fought would be discussed with emotion... and here we have a whole battle with enemies and victims... I just don't see this depression among the elves; I don't see actions to restore order, help for the wounded, burial of the dead...

An option with additions: You can write it in instead of your paragraph... or construct something of your own

But recently a battle with the undead took place in the grove. The battle was short, but extremely cruel and bloody. What happened affected everyone and knocked the peaceful life of the forest elves out of its usual rut. And while the high archmage (or whatever they are called among elves) Hilael secluded himself in his Consultative Chamber, conversations and discussions about the event did not subside among the other elves. Elves—from the very young to experienced men and women—helped the wounded, buried the dead, restored the mutilated nature of their forests and, of course, discussed what happened, putting forward different versions of the attack...
The young elf Silbern, a graduate (or not yet a graduate? then practically a graduate) and pride of the school of combat dance, also took part in eliminating the aftermath of the battle. Attentive and taciturn, he silently listened to the conversations of others and... (what was he doing there? Helping the wounded? Burying the dead? Restoring nature? Collecting the weapons of defeated enemies and handing them over to elven smiths for smelting... finish it yourself, but an elf simply could not stand aside...)

From his first year of training he was distinguished by persistence and tenacity in studying the complex and graceful technique of combat dance.

"Technique" is needed here

He was of average height, somewhere from 170cm to 185cm.

Is this the average height for elves? For humans, as far as I know (imho), average height is from 150 to 170... If higher (like your elf)—that's a tall person... Will elves be taller than humans in our book? And what is the average height of dwarves? 120-140? 150-160? We need to decide on this, so it doesn't turn out later that some one-and-a-half-meter dwarf "looks down upon a six-foot elf..." By the way—180 cm is 6 feet.

I replaced frequent repetitions of "he" in some places, added missing commas, coordinated some sentences, plus the height thing.... It turned out like this:

Silbern was an extraordinary student. From his first year of training he was distinguished by persistence and tenacity in studying the complex and graceful technique of combat dance. Standing approximately 6 feet tall, slender and strong, some might have considered him a handsome youth. His long white hair, according to the custom of combat dancers, was braided into a plait. Bangs fell over his young and daring face, longing for adventure. A string with a silver leaf was tied to a lock of hair above the left eye. A small emerald, like a dewdrop on a flower, adorned this leaf. This was the only thing that reminded Silbern of his parents who died prematurely when pirates-orcs attacked their ship. The young elf himself was at home under the care of his grandfather back then. His grandfather had once been a glorious archer and therefore taught his grandson to be proficient with flexible elven bows. But Silbern preferred mastery of the beautiful elven sword dance over simply being skilled with a bow.

Now, Silbern was as shocked by what happened as the others.

"What happened" (случившимся) here

They are sure that the elven race will exist as long as at least 1 unicorn lives, and therefore Killing a unicorn elves consider the most terrible crime against their people and their goddess Silanna.

"Killing" with a lowercase letter, comma before "that"...

In addition, 2 druids and 1 elder of the druids died, which made the entire forest folk think seriously. The losses of the undead were almost three times greater, but they are dead and can be raised from the fallen living; moreover, the very fact of their invasion was baffling. Their goals and intentions were completely incomprehensible.

Here I just don't understand why the fact of their attack is incomprehensible? The fact of a zombie invasion shouldn't be baffling. They are zombies, corpses, risen skeletons... An abomination, a contradiction to everything living and beautiful that the refined and lovely elves cherish so much... What motives could the undead have? Of course, the most vile, disgusting ones... which are sickening even to talk about. Kill all the undead and bury them so deep they never crawl out again...
This is generally from the perspective of the elves, I assume... just my judgments... you can revise the paragraph a bit... but at your discretion...

A young dark elf, a graduate of the School of the Invisible Hand, sat confidently on this lizard.

Uh... I wanted to correct something here, but forgot... maybe I'll remember later... or it doesn't matter.

The rider's height was approximately 10 cm less than Silbern's height.

While the dark elf is sitting, you can't know exactly how much shorter he is... You can only measure when they stand and align... Cut this sentence—it's redundant.

Their build was the same – both looked slender and fit.

Uh... maybe later, when Albin gets off his lizard-horse, we give a brief description of him?
Like—The arriving dark elf turned out to be slightly shorter than Silbern, but just as slender, fit, muscular... and so on regarding the appearance of the dark Albin... write it yourself at your discretion. And I'll correct it if something is wrong :)

The rider held himself confidently, but surprise was clearly written on his face.

"Confidently" and "clearly" don't blend well... Maybe like this:
The rider held himself confidently, although a flicker of surprise crossed his face—he was among forest elves for the first time.

I greet you, Albin-, Hilael said. Silbern understood what the stranger's name was…

Forgive me, but this sentence looks like a "deus ex machina." It is completely unclear how Hilael knows Albin? Why did Albin come to the forest elves? He was traveling to some city... Did the forest elves summon the dark elf? Did they intercept him on the road? All this needs to be clarified... Otherwise, it's a "deus ex machina"... appearing out of nowhere...
In short, more thinking is needed.

PS: Also regarding the names of creatures and undead—you write them sometimes with a capital letter, sometimes lowercase... Creatures was capitalized, Druids once capitalized, then lowercase... unicorns (sacred animals) lowercase... Review the text and decide whether we will write all names with a capital or lowercase letter. I suggest lowercase. Everyone—creatures, druids, unicorns, zombies...

Respectfully, Simas

Thank you, Simas, for the fair criticism. I will try to take all the listed mistakes into account and avoid making them in the future. As for Albin being among the Sylvan elves, it means that Trent entrusted Albin with a part of the artifact and sent him to Hilael. And as for why Albin deserved such an honor, I think DinHot wanted to write about it.

Uh... maybe we can give a brief description of Albin later, after he dismounts his lizard mount?

Dear colleague Simas, thank you very much for your support; Dragon and I were almost about to argue. As I understand it, the author begrudgingly accepted my comments. Regarding Albin on the lizard, I am against it, and I will explain why. Imagine this: Sybern, let's say, on a unicorn, a dwarf on a mammoth, Albin on a lizard, and a human on a horse – a completely "unnoticeable" group. It's not just demon spies who will notice them; anyone who happens to cross their path will be shocked by this idyll. I suggest portraying Albin as an assassin. And also (this is for everyone) Colleagues, remember that we are writing based on the game, not following its plot. We have a different world. We shouldn't rigidly tie the characters to the game. Please remember that if a reader is unfamiliar with the game, the phrase "riding a lizard" can be interpreted in any way. There were many different types of lizards, after all. And if they are familiar with the game, they will immediately realize that the book is based on it and may lose interest. With respect to everyone, Zeratul

So, Zeratul, are you suggesting we make them travel on foot? In principle, you are right, but Albina needed to reach the elven grove as quickly as possible; however, we could also send him there on foot. A rider always attracts more attention than a simple pedestrian.
P.S. Zeratul, I'm not offended by anyone. By the way, I would make the dwarf ride a bear. :smile54:

So, Zeratul, are you suggesting making them travel on foot? In principle, you are reasoning correctly, but Albina needed to reach the elven grove as soon as possible; however, he could also be sent there on foot.

Colleague, (I hope I'm not bothering you with this constant "colleague"), according to my plan, the characters will reach the destination separately, and here's why. I assume that each part of the Talisman creates a disturbance in the magical space, which can be used to locate it. Two parts of the Talisman naturally create twice as much disturbance, because they are also attracted to each other, as they are parts of a whole. I believe that each of the messengers should reach the Dragon Mountains, the Circle of Power, on their own, and the mages who have reached it through astral paths will initially perform the merging, and then the destruction of the Talisman.

Here, I must disagree. We need to create a team from all the races. Only by working together as a team can they win! (Besides, I would like to reconcile the two elven races during the story, by befriending Albin and Silbern). And I have another question (maybe I missed something or didn't understand), but why didn't the ancestors of the current population of Drakodar destroy the artifact, but instead just sealed a demon inside it?

I must disagree here. We need to create a team from all the races. Only by being a team can they win! (Besides, I would like to reconcile the two elven races during the narrative, by making Albin and Silbern friends).

Why don't you think about and rework the plot so that the heroes go separately at first (on foot), and then meet at some stages and continue together... Maybe not all four, but two elves... At some point (say, after 5 chapters), one of the elves helps the other in battle (the dark forest elf) or the other saves him from something (the forest elf saves the drowning dark elf))...

Okay, this is just a suggestion... but you think and decide...

Sincerely, Simas

That would be awesome! I think a movie based on Heroes of Might and Magic would look great in the style of "Beowulf" on a computer.

It would also be cool to add a piece from Final Fantasy (give Zephyr some kind of blaster so he can blast undead creatures=:smile40: )))

I must disagree here. We need to create a team from all the races. Only as a team can they win! (Besides, I wanted to reconcile the two elf races during the story, by making Albin and Silbern friends).

And I have another question (maybe I missed something or didn't understand), but why didn't the ancestors of the current population of Dracodar destroy the artifact, but only imprisoned a demon in it?

Colleague, a team of races will be formed, but much later, when each of the envoys is close to the end point of the route. After all, I
already wrote about the strange, from the point of view of everyone who meets them, idyll - elves, Dark and Light, human, dwarf. Well, let's say, in the game they only differ externally, although, of course, being in the Dungeon and in the forest leaves its mark on appearance. And, naturally, upon seeing this group, everyone will wonder - what could have united such different creatures? And where there is a question, there are also discussions. So, the secrecy of the mission collapsed immediately, without having time to exist for even a short, useful time.
Furthermore, according to my plan, after the war with the demons, all races were brought to the brink of extinction. I am a supporter of magic as a quantity, composed of the spiritual community of all existing units of the world: from people (elves, dwarves, etc.) to every blade of grass. And since there are fewer of these units, then, accordingly, the sorcerers could only use this power in a limited way.
That is, they were able to imprison the spirit of the Lord of Hell in the Talisman, but they no longer had the strength to destroy it. To do this, according to my plan, it is necessary to activate ALL the magic of the world, and it was also wounded. Only NOW are the prerequisites for this action emerging, and even then, it is initiated by demon raids and the betrayal of one of the Pillars.

Added 10 minutes ago

Why don't you think about it and rework the plot so that the heroes go separately at first (on foot), and then meet at some stages and continue together... Maybe not all four, but two elves... At some point (say, in chapter 5), one of the elves helps the other in battle (the Dark one helps the Forest one), or the other saves him from something (the Forest one saves the Dark one from drowning))...

Okay, this is just a suggestion... and you think about it and decide...

Sincerely, Simas

Colleague, as always, you immediately delve into the overall concept.

Okay, Zeratul, you are right, and your arguments are convincing. So, let's develop the idea that Albin appeared among the Elves so that Hilael could show him the best path, because it has become dangerous in the Dungeons. Could we do it that way?

Alright Zeratul, you are right and your arguments are convincing. Then let's play it as Albin appearing with the elves so that Hilael could show him a better path, because the dungeons have become dangerous. Maybe we can do it this way?

Dear colleague, I don't quite understand your logic. You just agreed with my arguments, yet you stubbornly continue to try and insert your own version. I am generally against the Dark one appearing with the wood elves. And besides—Albin, as a graduate of the assassins' school, is not afraid of something that implies danger. I think that the Dark one underground, by his moves, naturally, while traveling and fighting, reaches a certain point where, upon ascending, he meets the other messengers. My idea is that they are precisely the ones who will hold back the demon hordes trying to prevent the destruction of the Talisman.

Added after 1 hour 25 minutes
Thus, colleagues, I am posting an excerpt of the promised text for the humans. First, I want to apologize to colleague DinHot for stealing his idea with the hydra, but I found no other monsters that fit the meaning. I also want to warn against questions about where the hydra came from on the surface; the piece is far from finished (problems arose in aligning the general concept with a specific segment). I ask colleague Simas, and indeed everyone, to carefully review the text for linguistic, factual, and other errors.
"Bryacheslav attached a quiver of arrows to his left shoulder and a bow to his right, checked if the dagger slid well in its same-belt sheath, threw on a tattered once-green
cloak, adjusted soft boots for silent walking through the forest, and tied back his hair with a rag so it wouldn't catch on branches in the woods.
- Well then, mama, - he said in a quiet voice, - wait until closer to evening. I'll check the snares, look over the pits—and, own luck, there will be game for dinner.
- Son, please hurry back, - asked his mother, a frail little old woman wrapped in a patterned shawl, sitting on a bench in the spacious hut, - something feels wrong to me, I sense something ill.
Come home quickly. Bring something—good, or if you get nothing—come back regardless. We'll manage somehow.
- Mama, I will hasten as much as possible, - Bryacheslav said reassuringly, and, pushing open the hut door, stepped quickly into the yard. The hut faced the forest at the rear, and Bryacheslav, the best hunter in the hamlet, moved with a quick step toward the thicket.
« Mother is imagining things, - he thought, - what could be? For a long time now, neither beast nor own-kind has caused trouble here, and as for other harmful creatures, nothing's been heard of them for ages. But some game is needed; we've eaten everything in the house. Not a morsel of meat is left. And mother has gone hungry enough in her life; she needs softer food».
The undergrowth was long passed; he had entered the dense forest. Bryacheslav moved skillfully by habit, placing his feet with hunter-like silence: not a twig would snap, nor a needle shift, and most importantly—he tried to walk upwind.
… Reaching a landmark, Bryacheslav looked around carefully: his first snare was nearby, and he immediately caught a strange smell that he had never known before. The heavy scent of a large beast was completely out of place in the vast but interconnected consistency of forest smells and aromas. Looking closer in the forest gloom, Bryacheslav noticed ancient oaks broken like thin twigs. Lowering himself to the ground, Bryacheslav discovered huge tracks, unlike any he had ever seen. Quickly taking the bow from his shoulder and drawing an arrow, the hunter nocked it to the string and moved with cautious steps toward his snare. After a few steps, he suddenly became extraordinarily enraged: the thin but strong rope of the snare was torn like a spiderweb, and around on the trampled earth, splashes of blood were generously scattered; small tufts of fur lay upon last year's needles and cones. By the fur, Bryacheslav discovered that a roe deer had been caught in the snare, and relatively recently this large beast had found it and torn it apart. But the size, the size… An experienced trapper, Bryacheslav had never seen such tracks. It seemed as if some monster had broken out of Hell—the kind hunters whispered about among themselves—and mauled the poor animal. But what could it be… Never before had Bryacheslav seen a forest predator's feast leave nothing but fur and drops of blood: not a piece of skin, no entrails, no gnawed head. It seemed the unknown monster had diligently gathered almost all the crumbs after its meal.
Bryacheslav decided to track the new enemy. After all, this creature could emerge from the forest right into his hamlet. And the anger over the prey that he missed also would not fade.
But it had to be done carefully, without turning from hunter into victim. For, judging by the tracks, the monster possessed impressive dimensions. True, reason told him not to try and pursue this predator, but curiosity and a thirst for retribution for the lost prey drove him forward.
He did not have to walk long. Bryacheslav heard something that defied description. A scream of utter terror swept through the treetops as a moan, accompanied by an incredible half-shriek, half-clatter. The hunter cautiously took a few more steps and peeked from behind the trees. The scene that opened before his eyes made the hair under his rag stand on end. It was screaming… a bear. Specifically, it was screaming in terror, not roaring in rage. A bear, apparently young, no older than 3-4 years—among hunters these are still called 'pestuns'—was trying to climb a tall tree, escaping from… Even in a nightmare Bryacheslav would never have envisioned such a creature as the one pursuing the wretched bear. Body resembling a lizard, but a giant one, with a powerful tail whose strikes smashed ancient trees like splinters, and six heads with gaping maws lined with several rows of the sharpest teeth—and these heads sat on extraordinarily flexible and long necks. Several pairs of the monster's eyes, strangely large and unblinking, emitted a purple shimmer.
Leaping to the tree that the bear was trying to climb, the monstrosity, extending three heads, deftly caught the master of the forest by its hind legs and back, and easily, like a little frog, tore it into three parts, while the other three heads swiftly snatched up the bear's entrails and bones as they fell. Even the blood, which gushed like a waterfall, did not all reach the ground: the creature's heads, flashing like lightning, caught much of it in mid-air. Bryacheslav almost felt sick: a hunter who had seen much saw SUCH a thing for the first time. This vile thing should not be in his native forest. It is an alien here, wrong, unnecessary! The fingers tightly gripping the bow, which had first gone cold with fear, tensed again. Kill this filth, this scum! But raising the bow, Bryacheslav suddenly realized he didn't know where to shoot. The creature was covered in thick scales, the heads in horn plates, the belly not visible. Only the strange eyes. Eyes are vulnerable in all beasts and birds. If Dark elves were nearby, they could have told Bryacheslav that shooting at the eyes is useless, because in the Dungeon this creature doesn't need them and orients itself mainly by smell and sound. But Bryacheslav had never met the Dark ones, nor the wood elves, and there was no one to advise him. The first arrow went straight into the eye of the far-right head. The monster again emitted a strange half-whistle, half-clatter that nearly deafened Bryacheslav, and rushed at the hunter. Despite its size, the vile thing moved quite briskly, and the young trapper—who did not expect such speed from a bulky creature—was saved only by the fact that the monstrosity had recently eaten. However, Bryacheslav realized he could easily become the next snack if he didn't run with all his might, which is what he did. But he was hindered by the fact that while running he had to go around trees, whereas they did not bother the creature at all: it crashed through the thickets like a powerful boar during the spring rut.
True, a hunter is a hunter: he knows how to confuse a beast, how to change his scent. All of Bryacheslav's clothes were soaked in herbal decoctions that masked the smell of man and iron. Bryacheslav led the beast toward his trapping pit, which was not very far from their hamlet—he had specifically dug a pit for large game nearby so that he wouldn't have to drag the animal long way back to the dwellings."
Once again, please remember that this is not the entire episode. As they say, to be continued.

Okay, I will remove that part of the excerpt about how Albin appeared among the Sylvan elves. Then, I will continue writing about Silberne and his difficult journey with his piece of the artifact.

Okay, I'll remove that part of the excerpt about how Albin appeared among the Sylvan elves. Then, I'll continue writing about Silbern and his difficult journey with his piece of the artifact.

Colleague, it would be good if you wrote why Silbern was chosen by Hilael for the journey. That is, it would be good to have a scene of the selection process.

[

- Mom, I'll hurry as much as I can...

Sorry for my ignorance, but what does "eliko" mean? I can guess from the context that it means he will try to return as quickly as possible... but what's the exact meaning? Is it an Old Church Slavonic word? It's just confusing me...

The hut faced the forest with its back.

"Little house, little house, turn to me with your front to the forest and your back..."
“Zadami”? Why is it plural? Or are there several huts?

“He avenged his mother...”

Avenged?

The undergrowth had long been left behind, and now a dense forest began.

“Already” appears twice... rewrite it, okay?

The heavy scent of a large beast was completely out of place in the vast, yet interconnected, blend of scents and aromas of the forest.

“Blend”… I can intuitively understand this word… but! I looked it up in three dictionaries and couldn’t find it. I asked an editor at work, and he said, “It’s the consistency of a solution, the degree of density of a solution… it can be thicker or thinner… but I just don’t like the word – you have something Old Church Slavonic, and then suddenly ‘consistency’…”
In short, my alternative to “consistency” is a mixture. Or come up with something else...

Looking closely in the forest twilight, Bryacheslav noticed broken, like thin twigs, centuries-old oaks. Lowering himself to the ground, Bryacheslav discovered huge tracks that he had never seen before.

The guy's name appears in two sentences in a row. Replace it somewhere with hunter, man, guy, him, or something else...

Quickly taking the bow off his shoulder and drawing an arrow, the hunter fitted it to the bowstring and moved with cautious steps towards his lair.

Does “cautious” mean careful? Quiet? Silent? Why not use one of these words?

If there were Dark Elves nearby, they could tell Bryacheslav that it's useless to shoot with his eyes, because in the Dungeon, they don't need eyes, and it mainly orients itself by smell and sound.

Too many "would." The second one (before "Dark Elves") can be removed. And the preposition "in" is missing before "eyes."

That's all for now. You write interestingly. I'm looking forward to the continuation.)))

Here, colleagues, is the second excerpt about the hunter. I don't know how it turned out; I'm full of doubts as to whether I overdid it with the dialectisms and anachronisms. So please, criticize away, but in my opinion, the general plot outline should not be changed. Now it will be clear where the hydra came from: following a squad of demons. Well, that will be in the third and probably final piece of this chapter about the man.
…The hunter was already running through the underbrush, and the creature was crashing after him. But Bryacheslav could hear the monster's labored breathing mixed with its now rather infrequent shrieks. And although the beast continued to crash after the trapper, Bryacheslav felt that it was ready to stop or turn away. This could not be allowed. Even though Bryacheslav himself was exhausted, he was ready to continue this mad race until he overcame this creature. The pitfall was already very close, but the vermin had fallen behind and might stop altogether. Its rage needed to be stoked, so Bryacheslav, turning sharply, tore the bow from his shoulder with a practiced gesture and drew an arrow. The creature was about fifty paces away; he had to aim carefully. Wiping sweat from his forehead, trying to steady his breathing, Bryacheslav aimed carefully and sent the arrow into the eye of the leftmost head of the monstrosity. It had almost come to a complete stop, but the pain in the wounded head added to the monster's fury, and it rushed at the shooter with a passion, apparently intending to immediately finish off the vile mosquito that had stung it again. Bryacheslav barely managed to turn around and, without letting go of the bow, started running again. It was fortunate that the creature was much heavier than the hunter and could no longer run with its former speed.
And there is the distinctive oak. And the thicket. Bryacheslav gathered his last strength, sharply accelerated his pace, and just before the edge of the camouflaged pit, he literally launched himself into the air, tore off his quiver of arrows, and threw it forward along with the bow. A moment later, he hit the opposite side of the pitfall with his whole body, jumped up, and found the strength to run away from the edge. Just in time, because at that instant, the monster pursuing Bryacheslav flew into the trap with a muffled roar. But even a pit dug for a large beast proved too small for the six-headed creature. It entered the pit only with the front part of its torso, and both front paws ended up there as well. But the rear part, paws, and tail were free, and if not for the stake set at the bottom of the pit—which apparently pierced the creature's chest—it would have been able to get out almost immediately. Instead, it thrashed with a shriek in the pit, wildly lashing its heads and tail in all directions. Bryacheslav waited, having run further away and trying to steady his breathing. But despite the wait, the creature apparently had no intention of dying. Bryacheslav saw with horror that the walls of the pit were collapsing under the weight of the beast and the incessant blows of its paws. The man grabbed the bow and arrows and, offering a prayer in his soul to the heavens, began hastily firing one arrow after another into the eyes of the cursed creature. Almost all the arrows hit true, and one particularly lucky shot pierced the maw of one of the heads and apparently damaged something, because the head slumped helplessly. But the creature's rage only seemed to increase. It began to struggle even more violently and might have soon escaped the trap. But at that moment Bryacheslav heard a shout: "Get down, quick!" His body obeyed before his head could process the order. Bryacheslav fell to the ground, managing in astonishment to see crossbowmen in the uniforms of the nearby town's retinue pour onto the edge of the forest and instantly fire a volley at the creature from their crossbows.
Following the crossbowmen, men-at-arms burst into the clearing and, dodging the monster's necks lashing in all directions, began to hack them. Black blood sprayed everywhere, and the crossbowmen, having reloaded their weapons, shouted: "Spread out!" The men-at-arms cut off almost all the heads and hastily retreated from the agonizing creature. The crossbowmen, dropping to one knee, fired another volley at the nearly headless torso, and this time, it seemed, the iron bolts of the crossbows finished off the cursed monster. Letting out a half-sigh, half-sob from its remaining head, the tail and hind legs twitched convulsively one last time, and the monstrosity went still.
…The men-at-arms were wiping their swords and blood-splattered armor clean of the dead creature's black blood, the crossbowmen were slinging their weapons over their backs, and Bryacheslav, having come to his senses, was finally able to address the grey-bearded commander:
"Where are you from, brothers?"
"Are you from that farmstead?" – the commander frowned and nodded toward Bryacheslav's farmstead.
"Yes, uncle" - Bryacheslav suddenly grew alert.
"They burned it..." - the grey-bearded man began his tale, but without listening further, Bryacheslav rushed toward his home farmstead. From a distance, he smelled smoke, and as he ran to the edge of the forest, he saw a terrible sight.
The huge hewn logs used for the farmstead's palisade were partly charred, partly knocked down. The earthen rampart was scattered. The houses inside were smoldering with embers. Not all the houses were burned; some were demolished as if a malicious giant had tossed them left and right. And everywhere corpses, corpses... Charred corpses, torn apart, often without arms or legs, without heads. It was evident that many died with weapons in their hands. The surviving villagers, together with warriors in the cloaks of the retinue, wandered through the ruins, gathering the wounded and the dead.
"Mother!" - Bryacheslav screamed wildly. Forgetting his near-fatal exhaustion, he rushed like a whirlwind toward his hut. Externally, thank all the gods, it was almost undamaged, only some traces of fire were visible on the walls. But an answer came to Bryacheslav from a completely different side. "Son!" - he heard the tired but equally dear voice of his mother. One of the figures bent over the dead straightened up, and Bryacheslav saw his mother. Oh gods, what a state she was in! In torn rags, partially scorched, with traces of ash and soot on her face, the usually tidy old woman seemed the embodiment of grief and sorrow. But it was his mother—thank the gods—alive! Bryacheslav ran to his mother, gathered her in his arms, and began covering her wrinkled, dear face with kisses.
… - So how did it happen, Mother? – Bryacheslav asked his mother as they, having gathered the fallen villagers in one place, prepared a funeral pyre, as is done for those who died with valor. Many were here whom he had known since childhood. Almost the entire Fisherman family: the mother, terribly torn; two younger sons, mangled; the eldest son, half-burned but meeting the enemies as a warrior should, with an axe in his hands; the father, fighting to the last.
Aunt Felia, who had spoiled Bryacheslav since childhood with either sweet carrots or rich buns; Grandpa Hamster, so called for his tendency to bring everything he saw into his house, but gentle with children; and many, many others.
- After you, son, went into the forest, I lay down. My soul was anxious. And suddenly I heard the dogs howling throughout the farmstead—so terribly, as if Death herself had come. I jumped up, ran onto the porch, and people were running in the yards; the men were grabbing pitchforks or axes, the women were wailing and dragging children somewhere. And the elder was shouting: "Women, hide the little ones in the cellars! Men, all to the rampart! Bring the healer, bring our healer!"
And above all this commotion, beyond the wall, there was howling, shrieking, cracking, as if bones were breaking into tiny pieces. The men shouted: "Unknown creatures have attacked us!" and everyone ran to the rampart. Only our blacksmith put his boy on a bay mare and told him to gallop to the prince's town for help. I rushed after the men to help with something; they shout: "Where are you going, old woman! Hide yourself!", but I beg: "Sons, my own is in the forest! Let me at least look!" and I run... And beyond the wall, my son, vile creatures, crawling vermin, terrors, horrors! I have never seen such things! They roar, climb the wall, break it. And behind them are fire-women; they burn with fire, throw flames, others, like big dogs, carry a bonfire on themselves and explode, but it does not hurt them. It only hurts us! Well, the men started hitting the fire-women with arrows, but those foul curs throw themselves at the wall, gnaw the logs, and huge creatures—there were about three of them—burn the men on the walls.
The foul creatures broke through the gates, but our men met them with axes. But how can one fight when these things with fire on their backs run up and blaze. Our men held out for a long time even then, but those cursed vermin broke through the wall and began to rage. Some they gnaw, some they tear apart, some they burn with fire. Our men, though they all fell themselves, took down many of them, and then the prince's retinue arrived.
- The boy galloped to us, - the grey-bearded centurion said, frowning, - roaring, choking
"Father, father ordered...", but he couldn't say what was ordered. Well, I figured things were wrong, commanded "Mount up," since the whole retinue was in the barracks; put the lad on my saddle and told him to show the way. And we rode. We galloped to your farmstead, saw—things are bad. The cursed enemies had broken inside, and those fire-women your mother speaks of were throwing balls of flame. But fortunately, they didn't notice us right away, apparently. Immediately we split into two fifties and struck from two sides. The crossbowmen took down those women and huge lizards with bolts almost instantly, and the spearmen followed after the cursed creatures into their backs. And then it began—a laugh for the cat, but tears for the mice. We put the same creatures down quickly; they didn't even have time to recover when we heard someone shrieking again nearby. We thought one of those things had brought reinforcements, reformed, and rushed there, but there you were fighting. You fight well, lad – the centurion respectfully patted Bryacheslav on the shoulder – alone, practically, you took down such a beast"

Added after 14 minutes

Sorry for the ignorance, but what is "elikko"? By context I can guess that it means he will try to return as quickly as possible... but more precisely? What kind of word is this—Old Church Slavonic? It just leaves me at a loss...

Yes, it's an Old Church Slavonic word; it indeed means quickly, soon.
Furthermore, usually one doesn't say a house has a "back," but the expression "the backs of houses" exists.
Pomestilos - means imagined (Old Slav.)
Agreed, for a village boy knowing the word consistency is difficult. But better not "mishmash," but something like interconnection, though something simpler—I haven't thought of it yet.
"The boy's name appears in two sentences in a row. Replace some with hunter, man, lad, him or something else..."
Yes, that's my trouble. I'd be very grateful for help here.
"Storozhkimi means cautious"
Yes, storozhkimi is not just cautious, but guarding—here, guarding the hunter from troubles.
"too many 'would'. The second one (before the dark elves) can be removed. And before 'eyes' the preposition 'into' is missing."
That is absolutely correct. I write as it comes, but now... Correct me, Simas, in the sense of "hold me, straw, hold me".:smile05: :smile41: :smile41: :smile41: