There’s something so horribly wrong with this place now, it’s so different from when we were last here. Ain’t just the heavy stink of blood and … worse in the air all round me, even now as we make our way carefully through the upstairs corridors. Then again, we’ve encountered more dead since, not so many now but still enough to tell us that Lady Thura’s hard-nosed security staff were clearly up to most threats they might’ve encountered protecting this family … but unfortunately that don’t include this one. Every so-called “body” we’ve found has been sundered beyond all recognition, almost like whatever did this went even harder on these poor bastards.
No, there’s … something else underneath it all, something genuinely nasty. It’s a subtle scent, but I’m picking it up all the same, and it’s working my nerves sure as anything else right now. It’s so strange, though, like nothing else I ever encountered before, I can’t even tell if it’s natural or … something else. I just know it’s wrong.
It’s oily, some kind of sick, rancid liquid stink, something I can almost feel leaving grease-tracks inside my nostrils every time I inhale. If there were ever times I wished I didn’t have such an uncanny sharp sense o’ smell, this is one of ‘em.
I can tell Shay’s caught it too, she looks a good deal more tense than I would’ve expected her to be just from seeing the wreckage that’s been left behind by … whatever. I can’t actually tell if Yeslee’s picking up on it the same as we are, but there’s no way she couldn’t be, I suspect it’s purely down to her typical stoicism that she just won’t let it show. Certainly there’s already enough tension in her as she creeps through the gloom at the front o’ the group, her bow held low and already half-drawn, scouting for the rest of us.
Chancing a look back now, I can just see Brung at the rear, hanging back as he keeps looking back on what we already passed. I don’t think he’s any more worked up than normal, but I still don’t know him well enough yet to properly judge. Definitely not with those already inscrutable goblin features.
Kesla’s the one I’m most worried about here right now. Not for her nerves, I know full well how tough she is, it’s how this whole situation’s gotta be proper gnawing at her. I saw how deep the instant connection she formed with Lady Thura was, though I really can’t blame her for that either, the Hellcat of Kumehn Valley made a hell of an impression on me. But I swear, it was more’n that for her, and she’s been worked up something fierce since it first occurred to us she was even in danger, and her family with her. ‘Course for me that’s the part’s got me concerned here, those kids, I liked ‘em all, ‘specially little Mara … or maybe I’m just projecting there given how I just found out I’m a da …
That thought makes me look over at Darwyn, and not for the first time since we climbed the stairs. My former lover is … wound pretty tight too. She can’t smell that strange underlying stink like I can, but she’d have to be blind and stupid not to get a little freaked out from the gory mess we’ve been finding. The light from Lady Naru’s fancy floating globe of light, as it hovers above us as we make our way through the corridor, has this kinda cold, washing-out effect on the colours, but the blood’s still black enough against everything else to recognise. And the scattered viscera really can’t be mistaken for anything else, not if you been taught to cut up bodies like we have.
Unable to help myself, I lean in now, mindful to keep my voice low as I can as I whisper: “How you doin’?”
“Honestly?” Her eyes flicker to me for a moment, and while I might’ve been expecting some reproach or a little of the old defensiveness, instead she just seems anxious. “I am very much wishing I’d stayed downstairs with Zul right now.”
“And I would not blame you.” I growl back, unable to keep the tension out my own voice, whisper or not. “This stinks. Literally.”
“Like what?” Her wide eyes fix on me now, and she slows even more than the cautious crawl we’re already affecting.
“I dunno. But it ain’t good, whatever it –”
Up ahead, Kesla turns and raises her hand, while she stays in her own wary half-crouch, her drawn sword held low at her side now like she’s still fully prepared for anything that might jump out at her. With her fancy helmet on I can’t make out any more of her expression now than before as she turns back to look us over, but the fact I can make out her bright eyes at least tells me she’s still tense.
As the message passes down the group, Lady Naru taking a half-step back as she plants her staff while settling her feet just in front of us, it becomes clear we ain’t stopping on a whim. Past Kesla, I can see Yeslee’s stopped too, stiff as I ever seen her now, and I know immediately that’s a serious sign. Something’s up.
“What’s happening?” Krakka mutters surprisingly close by my left ear, almost enough to make me jump a little as I turn to find him squinting round me now, and it becomes clear that even with the fancy magic light overhead he’s having trouble seeing much of anything.
“Something’s up.” I turn back and narrow my own eyes a little as I look past Yeslee as she very slowly starts to circle to the right, sidestepping with clear purpose as she starts to draw her bowstring a little tighter. “Yeah … something serious.”
Looking closer, I realise now she’s reached a junction in the corridor, two more branching off from either corner up ahead, and she’s very carefully making her way out into the relative open between. Kesla, meanwhile, has now moved forward, instead pressing herself tight against the wall as she sidles up to the nearer corner, the one Yes is glaring past with her usual razor sharp focus. Which must mean something heavy in itself.
After a quick peek round the corner, Kesla draws back and plants herself against the wall again, her head lowered now, like she’s lost in thought … then she looks up and glances towards us. After another pregnant beat she hisses: “Art!” and raises her free hand, beckoning me up as she pushes herself upright, although the tension never leaves her.
When I glance to her, Darwyn’s eyes are wider still, and when she turns to me there’s open worry in ‘em now, clearly directed specifically at me. “What does that … wait –”
“Chill. I do this shit all the time, remember?” I can’t help myself, I reach out and rest my hand against her cheek, my fingers brushing that special spot just under her ear she always loved so much, and as I take it away again I let my fingers gently brush her skin before breaking contact like I always used to. “I’ll be okay.”
She almost grabs my hand before I can pull it away entirely, I’m sure of it. Instead her eyes just search my face for a long beat, and I find her continuing concern awful touching, actually. Reminds me of old times. “Promise?” Her voice almost breaks when she says it.
Coming close to just lying to her, instead I hold my tongue for a moment, looking down. Finally I use the more familiar sentiment I’ve come to rely on since I started this lifestyle. “No promises in a fight, Dar. I’ll just try my damnedest.”
That makes her frown, but the note of anger does a good job of tempering her worry a little, at least. I don’t give her a chance to say anything in response, instead shooting a quick look to Krakka, who’s already stepping up to her side so he can lay a relatively comforting gauntleted hand on her shoulder. Trusting him to prop her up now, I head over to join the others at the front, moving quick now.
Lady Naru’s eyes widen a little as she steps aside to let me pass, but I’m already dodging round her anyway, moving with quick, confident speed as I use my sense of smell more’n my actual eyes to work on avoiding the particularly messy corpse I have to jump over to reach Kesla. She steps back as I approach, already turning in order to step to the corner again, and as she turns she beckons me to come close, so I do. Stepping into her side, I lean close under her before finally shifting so I can glance out into the corridor beyond. “What’s up?”
“Not really sure, but …” She points out past the corner, and her tone don’t make me feel any better, hearing the tension in her voice. “What d’you make o’ that?”
Frowning, I lean the rest of the way and look forward … and almost instantly wish I hadn’t after all. Gods, that is nasty. There’s three more particularly shredded bodies essentially strewn all about the corridor, not just the well-carpeted floor but the walls too … but worse is the fourth body. This one’s relatively intact, I realise after a moment, but whoever it was they clearly didn’t get off any better. It’s a young woman, I realise, another one of Lady Thura’s beloved female fighters, and her armour has been rent and sundered with the same appalling ease as the rest. She’s missing a leg, I see, while the other is sort of dragging on the floor as she lazily swings in place.
That’s cuz she’s hanging from the fucking ceiling. Fuck, how the hell did that even happen? Squinting a little, I crane to look up at the outstretched arm she’s dangling from and now I can make out that she’s been pinned there, in place, with a crossbow bolt through her hand. For a moment I think that is just the cruellest twist yet, while another part o’ me ponders on what that actually even means since the other wounds can’t have been caused by any weapons I know … then I see a discarded broken crossbow lying just short of the hand of one of the other victims and it clicks for me. Well that’s … fuck, that’s almost worse, that means she got skewered by accident during the fight.
“That is just … awful. But what –”
“She’s still alive.” Yes says it surprisingly matter-of-fact, but honestly I wouldn’t have expected her to deliver it any other way. She lets her bow relax again as she starts to creep forward herself, frowning mightily now as she focuses on this grim spectacle.
“Fuck …” The word’s out before I can stop it, but thankfully I still barely mutter it. Looking closer now, I realise that she’s right, I can just about make out the subtle shift of her chest rising and falling, at least under the badly mangled cuirass, and a subtle flicker of her eyelids. “How the hell is she even …”
Kesla don’t reply, instead she just steps out, but ‘least she’s moving cautious, sword held low one-handed but still cocked and ready as she creeps forward. I notice the subtlest tightening of Yeslee’s frown as she see this, then she lets her bowstring slacken a little more and starts approaching herself, much more matter-of-fact.
I don’t follow, not right away, instead I turn back to look the others over, surprised to find Lady Naru’s now stood right behind me. She’s watching the scene with a wary look that’s all kinds of complex, not quite haunted but I’m sure she’s as shocked by what she’s seeing here as was downstairs. It sure ain’t got old for me.
“Krakka …” The first time I’m barely able to croak his name out, I almost don’t expect him to actually catch it, and I have to clear my throat before trying again. “Um … Krakka? We might need you up here.”
Lady Naru turns as I say that, looking back now, while Shay’s eyes just widen a little as the possible implications must hit home for her, but after a beat the cleric brushes past her with cool politeness and a surprisingly cool expression. I dunno, maybe it’s the idea of another potential patient, like he’s got something else to focus on now. Either way, he comes quick when called, even if he does still have to mind his noisy feet with all this mess …
Turning back myself, I take a deep breath to steel myself and simply follow the others, finding Kesla’s already gingerly stepping close to the dangling girl. Honestly, the state she’s in I can’t believe she actually is still alive, not least with most of her guts spilled right out of her. The fact they’re still attached definitely don’t do me any favours looking at ‘em. In the end I just look down instead, preferring to concentrate on checking my footing on approach so I don’t have to look at it, but given the state of the place it don’t really help.
The others, meanwhile, ain’t wasting time. Kesla’s stepped right up to the girl, guts be damned, leaning close as she looks her over, although when I look up I can see she’s still wrinkling her nose some herself, definitely catching the smell herself this close. Yes, meanwhile, has stuck her arrow back in her quiver, letting her bow gently settle as she ponders how the girl’s actually pinned.
“Hello? You okay there? Um … hey, are you …”
Those eyelids flutter again, a little more forcefully this time, and the girl’s head twitches a little, not quite raising but turning a little where it’s hanging even so. Then her eyes open a crack and she lets a wheezing, rasping breath go, and now she lifts her chin, but only a touch, and it’s shaky as she whimpers.
“Hey, careful, don’t move.” Kesla reaches up with her free hand but stops herself before she touches her, hesitant about maybe accidentally jogging her. Yeslee, meanwhile, is looking the girl over with a more critical eye now.
“Help … help me …” The girl’s voice cracks badly, barely more than a scratchy whisper, as if her throat is horribly dry, but I’m sure it’s due to weakness from her horrific injuries. “Please … help me …”
“We will, we’re trying …” Kesla casts about for a moment, then takes a step back so she can clear some space in order to sheathe her sword. “Yes, can you get her free, help her down?”
“I don’t know if that’s …” Yeslee falters, and when I look up at her I see her frown’s a good deal darker now. But more’n that, I think now she seems the tiniest bit spooked again. What’s that about?
“C’mon Yes,” Kesla turns to her. “Don’t fuck about.”
“Look at her.” Yeslee nods, looking down at her now. “Look.”
“What are you talking –” Kesla turns back, and while I can’t see that she’s frowning too I wouldn’t be surprised, her tone gives it away all on its own. Then her words choke off and she goes very still, and I have to look now too.
It’s subtle, I don’t quite catch it at first, but the light from Lady Naru’s magic is growing brighter, I imagine she’s moving closer even now so the globe’s following her. It’s enough for me to catch it when it shows itself, the movement’s too jarring and alien for me to miss, it just feels wrong in my bones to see it. There’s something … inside her, in her wounds, slithering about in the gaping tears in her flesh and armour, but it’s peeking out now she’s starting to move her head, that she’s aware. As if her consciousness awakened it. It’s clearly alive, whatever it is. It doesn’t look … well, I’d be hard pressed to call it anything alive, but somehow it’s moving with clear purpose all the same.
Whatever this shit is, I don’t think it’s strictly solid, it seems almost more like sentient smoke, thick and black but seeming to wisp and shift as it coils and grasps and recedes in those wet recesses. There’s something … oily about it, I realise now, and once that idea gets into my head I start thinking about that smell and then I start to wonder …
“Wait …” I mutter it low, under my breath, hesitant, but I’m already pulling back, I can’t help it. I’m beyond shook after seeing this.
“What the fuck is that?” Kesla hisses, stepping back herself, tightening up now as she grips her sword with both hands, ready to draw again.
“I have no idea.” Yeslee growls as she starts to withdraw too.
When I take another step back I nearly trip over Krakka, turning quick as I right myself to find he’s watching this too with wide eyes while he’s grasping his hammer tight in front of him as if trusting it to shield him now, and muttering again, under his breath. Praying.
“Help me …” the girl pleads again, a little louder now, and her voice, what little there is, is audibly breaking now. “Help … please … kill me … please …”
“Oh fuck …” Kesla draws her sword now, in the same moment the girl starts to convulse, her eyes rolling up in her head now as she chokes, coughing up blood … and then something else entirely. All of a sudden there’s black shit spilling out of her, not just from her mouth but everywhere, wherever there’s a gaping, torn wound in her, that oily, horrible misty blackness starts to force its way out. It’s almost like she’s vomiting it out of herself, but … no, the more I watch the clearer it gets that’s not really right. It’s more like this stuff’s tearing itself free of its own accord.
“Thorin … what the fuck?” Kesla draws her sword again and her blade catches the light as she does it and it flashes just a little as she jumps back, Yeslee stumbling somewhat to the side as her eyes go shockingly wide too …
… and this shit reacts to it, jolting hard to the right and, almost all at once, arching round to splash all over the wall. As it hits it spreads out in all directions, seeming to spiderweb outwards from where it impacts, but almost instantly the tendrils that form there start to writhe and crawl of their own volition, growing mass and purpose of their own. Fuck … I was wrong, this shit is a whole lot more alive than I thought it was.
“Back!” Yeslee starts yelling, much louder than I think I ever heard her before in my life. “Back! Right now! Everybody BACK!!”
In the next moment several things all happen at once. Firstly, the now waxy pale, entirely limp body of that poor young guard finally tears free from the bolt pinning it to the ceiling and drops like so much torn wet laundry into the mess of it own viscera. Meanwhile the others all start to stumble and stagger back in a great clustered, haphazard clump, not even bothering to watch their footing now in their clear desperation to get away from everything that’s happening here right now. I’m with ‘em, I can’t help it, and as I feel one foot skid out from under me as I step on a mess of something nasty I crash into the wall and all I can do is shoot out my paw and extend my claws to hook into the plaster and hope it’s enough to keep me from tumbling.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
All while that thing, whatever the fuck it is, seems to quiver and quake, and for a split I start to hope maybe it’s just dying, or dissipating, just somehow ceasing to be. Then, with a great snapping spasm, the whole thing splits in half, and the two pieces start to scuttle apart, each portion quickly growing as big as the whole was before. Shit. I don’t even think about what I’m doing as I start clumsily grasping for my sword with my free hand, wanting to protect myself whether I drop or not.
Suddenly the whole corridor is very loud as everybody starts shouting at once, any thoughts we might’ve had for attempted stealth going out the window the moment the threat’s revealed. I’m slowly becoming aware that these two crawling horrors ain’t the only perceivable threats now, as I’m looking I can see more spilling surges of roiling smoky effluence spilling from other corpses scattered around us … which makes me think this can’t be the only danger here now it’s revealing itself.
“Watch out! Look out behind us!”
Finally I just tear my claws loose the best I can, feeling an uncomfortable tug as the plaster strips away but thankfully I don’t think I actually lose anything in the process, and in the end I tumble anyway. ‘Least I’m able to control my fall, twisting as I drop so I can get my paws and knees under me as I land, and I’m already scrambling forward into the first available gap as the others start to scatter, suddenly mindful Darwyn’s still back there and she don’t see too well in relative darkness.
Even as I go I hear something screaming behind me, but I know it’s none o’ my friends, no way any of ‘em could make a noise like that. It’s worse’n nails down a chalkboard, the kind of high-pitched wailing that don’t just ring in your ears but pierces your whole head right through, so bad you feel it grating in your bones. And there’s sounds o’ violence too, amidst the shouting I hear the heavy whoosh of steel through air than can only be Kesla swinging Hefdred, but when there’s an accompanying crunching thunk it don’t sound like flesh. More like wood or plaster yielding to a heavy, sharp edge. Did she miss? That don’t sound likely at all, not with her arms.
I don’t bother looking back to check, I just keep going cuz I can see my suspicious was spot on. I reach the corner just in time as the last of our group spill round it, Darwyn scrambling desperately to get away as a whip-fast black tendril snaps hard a bare inch above her ducking head and instead cracks hard across the corresponding wall. Less than a blink after the rest of this new entity rolls into view after her, and it’s like it’s just reeling that makeshift tentacle back into its central mass, even now just constantly shifting its shape. Like it’s working on adapting to the constantly changing circumstances. And this one’s screaming just as loud as I heard the ones behind us doing, piercing enough to grind my fucking soul.
As it tumbles through and Darwyn just throws herself forward into a desperately reckless forward roll to clear some distance from it, Brung springs in and makes an opportunistic cut as hard through its centre as he can with his shortsword. He powers through with a two-handed grip, his claws small enough he can wield it like Kesla with her bastard sword, and the tight, rasping snarl he gives as he performs the ferocious stroke tells me he’s putting all his strength into the attack. And this thing don’t seem to catch it in time, sure don’t dodge the blow, so it should cleave it in half.
Except the blade just passes clean through like the thing really was made of smoke, the edge not so much cutting through as simply parting the billowing, insubstantial gas these living shadows started out as. Except I seen these things cause real damage to the walls they hit, sure as they must be responsible for the horrendous ripping wounds the bodies we been finding all wear. It makes no sense for them to not be solid and yet still capable of inflicting real harm …
Finally managing to draw my own sword, I lash out my free hand and grab hold of Darwyn’s arm before she even starts getting up again and shove her behind me as I round on the threat as it starts to wheel round on Brung. Planting my feet, I mutter a low prayer under my breath to Thorin for guidance and hope like hell I ain’t really wasting my effort here, then lunge. Remembering the old form that was drilled into me easy as breathing, I jab once, twice, three times in the space of a breath, then finally draw my long-knife out in case I need to follow through. Only now registering that my attack did nothing.
Or maybe not, at least it seems to check this makeshift creature’s attack before it can make it on the goblin as he scrambles aside, his gleaming yellow eyes a good deal wider now as he takes this in. It seems to contract on itself, the tendrils drawing in while the central mass subtly swells as if incorporating the mass, and for the moment I could almost be forgiven for thinking it’s actually solid, if not for the edges at least. They’re still indication enough this thing don’t have any real mass, subtly shifting and rippling with wisps and wafts of smoky gas boiling away into the cold, blue-lit air.
Suddenly I got the quietly terrifying feeling this thing’s actually looking right at me.
Sensing this, I tense up instantly, tightening into a wary crouch, raising both blades in preparation to deflect an attack … but even so when it whips a tendril out of its centre of mass, aimed right for my face, it does it with such shocking speed I nearly miss it. So instead of trying to parry I just react by pure instinct and duck aside, twisting as it uncoils less than an inch shy of my face and snaps with a disconcertingly loud crack in mid-air. Now I strike, hacking upwards with deft swiftness intended to cleave the tentacle away, but instead it just parts in the air like before. Instead of falling the severed tendril dissipates, melting away in a puff of dark gas.
Fuck … this really ain’t working. “Kesla! What do we do?”
She don’t answer, but I can hear shouting and sounds of frantic struggle behind me, telling me the others are likely learning how bad the situation is for themselves. And all the while, underneath it all, I can still hear quietly Krakka praying.
“We gotta go!” Darwyn hisses, shrill and desperate as she grabs hold of my wrist and pulls me back, and I don’t really resist as she starts to turn me round. “Art! Come on! We gotta get outta here!”
“And go where? We’re fucking trapped!”
Her eyes widen a little more as the implications of that idea hit home, and while she opens her mouth to reply, nothing comes. She’s scared out her mind, and I don’t blame her.
Then I catch subtle movement behind her and don’t even bother trying to warn her, I just drop my knife and lunge forward with my now empty hand, grabbing her shoulder and shoving her aside as another tendril shoots out. It snaps loudly through the air where she would’ve been just a blink before, and I hear her whimper in panicked surprise as she shivers under my arm, and I bear her down, praying now just for a little respite. Just as Krakka finally raises his voice mid-prayer …
His last few words seem to take on genuine weight in the same way one of Gael’s spells does when she speaks it, telling me he’s working some god magic in the same instance that he lets the butt of his hammer thump to the floor. In less than a blink its silvered head flares and I’m bloody glad I’m barely looking that way through my side-eye cuz it’s fucking blinding, like a blazing noon sun suddenly piercing through thick cloud cover. The corridor round us suddenly lights up a dozen times brighter than the sorcerer’s globe managed, and as it seems to pulse in a strange, staccato way that makes everything judder and skip as the others stumble back and cover their faces the best they can. I turn away from it at the last but I doubt it really helps, even as I cram my eyelids tight shut that strange weird bright shade of green from the afterimage tells me I’m a little blinded in that eye right now …
There’s a whole bunch o’ cursing too, from almost everybody. I spit out: “Fuck!” in an angry hiss as I find myself staggering into the wall, but really it’s largely drowned out by a much louder sound. Again there’s that harrowing high-pitched impossible shrieking, but it’s even louder now, and a good deal more desperate, something I couldn’t mistake for anything other than pain actually. Even before I manage to pry my eyes open a crack again I already know that Krakka’s trick actually hurt these things.
Then I’m chancing a peek through the tight slits between my eyelids and I can just about see that both my blades are glowing with a warm, bright radiance, like their steel’s white hot, even though they still feel comfortably cool in my paws. Opening my eyes a little more I see Darwyn staring dumbfounded at the knife in her own hand, and I realise that, unlike myself, she’s never actually seen anything like this before. Brung looks a little more composed about his own shortsword glowing with sudden incandescent brightness, but his eyes are still a little wider than I’m learning is really normal for him as he waves it about. Marvelling at the way it leaves track-lines in the air.
Krakka’s called upon his goddess to bless our weapons with Her holy fire, and now, as I look about, I realise every blade here is blazing with Serena’s Holy Fire. It’s genuinely unprecedented, I never seen him do this many weapons at once before, on the few occasions I known him to do it before it’s usually Kesla who receives the blessing, cuz he knows she’s the most capable fighter. I got it once before, but that was more simply down to opportunity. Him doing the whole group is entirely new to me, and I’m kinda staggered.
But the flare itself don’t last forever, so while the blades keep glowing the flash dissipates and the screeching eases off with it as these living shadows stop quaking and visibly shrinking and start to recover again. I feel the attack coming again even before the one in front of us starts to pick itself up, growing again as it starts to spread its tendrils once more, almost certainly preparing its spring. I don’t bother giving it a chance.
When I thrust into the centre of that weird black mass this time it meets actual resistance, at least while my hot blade still cuts through uncommonly smoothly but nonetheless doing actual damage this time. And I hear what my blade’s doing too, a loud sizzle like bacon fat flash-frying, although mostly I just hear more screaming. I really am hurting this thing now.
Maybe it’s the sudden success, or maybe I’m still too worked up from all this stress, but I let my darker impulses win now as I give my sword a hard twist and tear into the mass a little more, and it writhes on my blade. For a moment the tentacles quake and flop about with no real purpose, but then it starts to properly react and lashes out at me with clear intent to inflict real damage again. I duck aside as the tendril whips at my face and instead feel it brush just the corner of my ear … and it stings, somehow it cuts me without even trying, it’s made of smoke and shadow but I still got it stuck on my sword and now it’s clearly lacerated the tip o’ my ear. I feel the hot pain of the wound flaring and it sets the red mist loose in me cuz I don’t twist the blade this time, just giving it a savage yank to the side while it screams louder’n ever.
It tumbles back as I rip it wide open and while I’m pulling my sword arm back to cock for another attack Brung lunges through the gap that just opened and leaps on it, starts cutting away without preamble. I pause for a moment as my focus is lost by this interruption, and as I ponder I become aware of the sounds of violence all round me and more focused, largely less panicked shouting now, more just other members of our makeshift team offering up warning or direction. Then I hear Darwyn squeal in much clearer alarm and turn fast.
She’s stumbling back while grasping her right shoulder with an already bloody hand while more pours down her arm as her feet slip out from under her and the only thing that keeps her from just dropping entirely is the wall behind her. She’s still gripping one of her knives in her now otherwise limp hand, but I catch a glimpse of the other on the floor, a scattering of offal instantly starting to sizzle and smoke from the heat of the blade lying on it. The searing smell I catch is at once abhorrent and strangely compelling to me, and when I feel my stomach turn over I can’t quite be sure if it’s revulsion or hunger, which just makes me want to puke even more. Even before I note any actual threat I’m just stepping past as I duck to Darwyn’s side, ready to put myself between her and whatever just cut her.
There’s two more o’ these things coming quick, the closer one already shooting out more of those nasty feelers while the other’s clumsily tumbling at a flanking angle round the side. Fuck, that’s a scary thing to see, can these things actually think? Makes my bloody skin crawl.
The closer one don’t give me time to ponder though, the first tentacle it shoots at me coming close enough to gouge the plaster just beside my head as I pull aside from it. I lash out with my offhand knife in the same instant and cut it clean through and while the severed part seems to simply puff away into nothing in an instant, the stump’s immediately yanked back into the whole while the entire creature seems to shudder. Meanwhile I Follow through fast with a focused hack down into the centre of the mass, and the whole thing cleaves in two before it has a chance to react. It unleashes another piercing scream and both halves spasm with particular intensity … then the cry just seems to peter out into a scratchy death rattle and the pieces flop aside, melting into empty air before they can settle.
The other one don’t hesitate, though, which is enough to give me pause as I shift my stance in order to keep myself squarely in front of Darwyn now. It don’t bide its time like I would’ve expected a proper opponent to do after seeing a companion go down, forcing it to recalculate this new threat, instead it slithers fast across the floor to the left in what I could almost mistake for a feint … if it didn’t then just follow right through with a direct attack from two tendrils at once, both aiming directly for my face. It’s a little confusing, I can’t decide if this thing really is fighting smart and I can’t predict it or it’s just reacting according to some pre-conditioned sets of behaviours, something I can’t really fathom. Either way, it’s at once startling and, honestly, a little dumb too.
So I just spin my sword in a deft little flourish as it tries to cut me down, twisting in the same movement so those tentacles miss me by inches, and they simply keep extending in empty air until I cut ‘em both free. Now it starts to back away, like it’s finally learned I’m actually dangerous, but of course it’s too late, I’m already responding as I drop into a tight lunging thrust. I extend fully as I stab almost directly horizontally now, and it’s so perfectly timed I ram the full length of my blade through it.
‘Course, this brings me close enough at the end of my extension I’m essentially face-to-face with the thing when it screeches, shivering with angry spasms just on the other side of the guard, so I got no protection from the noise. I have to grit my teeth tight against the discomfort, squeezing my eyes to tight slits as I turn my face away as much as I dare while I flatten my ears on pure instinct, but nothing helps. That howl goes right through me.
So I just snort up a tight little breath that stinks of burning oil and follow through with a second deep, angry stab with my knife, and keep jabbing ‘til the fucking thing finally stops squealing. The howl chokes off like the last time, more of a strangled cough this time, and it just pops like a soap bubble, dissipating in a big inky puff before fading into the cold blue air. I start to collapse less’n a beat after, my arms giving out just before my legs do, buckling at the knees so I slump to the floor, panting while my whole body shakes from the adrenaline still surging through me.
In the back o’ my mind the cautious part o’ me’s screaming that I gotta wake up, gotta get back with it cuz there could be more threats coming, this is a dumb time to just switch off, but I’m finding it damn hard to respond right now. Then I feel a small but steely strong hand gripping my shoulder and the touch is so familiar, I can’t help looking up, having to blink a little to focus as I realise I’m crashing some now. “Darwyn? Are you –”
She shushes me as she lets go of my shoulder and instead lets her arm snake round the back of my neck so she can settle in close and kiss me on the cheek. “It’s okay, just chill. Calm.” She rests her forehead right where she kissed me and we stay like that for a time, I don’t know how long, but I suspect it can’t be more’n a minute or two. ‘Least until I start coming back to myself proper again and I finally become aware that all the shouting and the other violent noise seems to have subsided now. Okay, guess we were safe after all.
“Oh …” I sigh as I’m finally able to lift my head again, turning now to regard Darwyn as she pulls back so she can meet my gaze. “Sorry ‘bout that. Got a bit crazy there, looks like.”
Her smile looks pretty fragile, but I can’t be sure if it’s just her crashing too or from the pain. I can already see that she’s unsteady on her feet, gripping her shoulder tighter now while more blood’s still leaking between her fingers. A lot more than I’d prefer, definitely. But she still manages a tired little chuckle. “You idiot … thank you.”
“Fuck …” I sheathe both my blades at once before reaching out, already taking hold of her arms even as she hisses in clear discomfort, but her knees are giving out now as I start to pull her towards me. “Oh fuck … Krakka!!!”
It takes me a beat to realise that some o’ that noise is back, not so much shouting but there’s still a desperate squabble o’ voices behind me now, and as I turn round I hear Krakka grunt something noncommittal under his breath as he tries to come to my aid. Tries, cuz as I see now he’s pretty much collapsed himself, the others already gathering round him as Kesla works on helping him up.
Gods … it’s been a while since I seen him like this. He’s burned out, looks like, I knew he’d worked more of his god magic than he really should’ve when he tried blessing everyone’s weapons. I can just see my sword and knife still glowing bright like they’re white hot fresh out the forge, the subtlest glint of it peeking from under the sheath of every blade I’m wearing, looks like. Just as much as I can actually feel the subtlest thrum of power from my collection too. And I know this should last the best part o’ the remaining hour if past experiences are anything to go by.
He really might be genuinely tapped right now. And this is just the worst timing. Darwyn ain’t passing out in my arms, not yet, but as her hand finally slips away from her wound and I see just how bad it is I realise she needs help now. “Fuck … help! Help me!”
It’s deep, really deep. I can see how completely the leather plate of her pauldron’s been laid open, like it’s been sliced clean through by a razor sharp blade with significant force behind it, and the flesh underneath’s been cleaved deep too. I can just barely catch the subtle wink of bone exposed at the deepest part of the cut, and while it ain’t pumping angry enough to warn of a severed artery she’s still bleeding bad. I fish through what little I got on me that might help and end up finding a rag that I immediately bundle up in my fist and shove onto the wound, pressing hard as I dare to try and staunch the bleeding. She immediately starts to fight me, weak but trying her best all the same, and at least she seems a little more with it as the pain wakes her up again, hissing and whimpering as she glares at me with slitted eyes. “Aaaaah … fuck!”
And even so, the rag soaks through within seconds …
“I know, I know it hurts, I’m sorry … help! Fucking hell, please! Can somebody just help me please?!!”
“Let me …” Krakka grunts, a little more forcefully this time, and when I look up this time he’s trying to shove Kesla aside even though she’s clearly the only reason he’s sat up now and not prone. Shay’s coming, though, thrusting her sword down a good foot into the floor to let it stick into place as she skids down onto her knees next to us. “Let me help!”
“Shut up, you stupid bloody idiot!” Kesla snaps at him now, and while I can’t see her face with the helmet I think I catch how wide her eyes are from how bright they seem right now. “You’re in no fit state to do anything right now!”
“Oh shit …” Shay reaches out now as she leans in, and I pull the bloody rag away so she can get a proper look at the wound. Her eyes go very wide when she sees the damage, and while I can’t really tell in this weird cold light right now I swear she pales a little too. “Fuck … Kesla we need to get her outta here now! If he can’t heal her here we need to get her to someone who can right now.”
“But …” Kesla sits up a little now, and in her distraction almost loses her grip on Krakka as he again tries to pull out of her arms. “But we can’t … I can’t leave, not right now! This is –”
Shay’s eyes narrow as she opens her mouth to reply, and I know she’s gonna rip her a new one with her words, and I wouldn’t blame her in the slightest, all I care about right now is Darwyn. But then we hear a strange new voice, from somewhere further down the corridor, and all of us turn at once.
“Hello? Hey … are you … are you guys real? Can you help?”
One o’ the doors a little way down from where the dead girl dropped after the thing spilled out of her is open now, just enough for someone to poke their head and one arm through so they can lean out on their hand, low to the floor. Like they’re terrified of revealing any more o’ themselves right now, and honestly right now I definitely understand the sentiment.
I’m a beat realising I actually recognise this person, maybe it’s the loose curls of red hair tumbling into her face that clinch it. It’s the guard I saw when we came here last time, the really cute one. She looks scared to death right now, but there’s a little hope in her eyes even so. It seems to grow as she looks us all over, and when she sees me her own recognition hits home too. She starts to smile now, shaky but even more hopeful all the same. “Oh … oh! It's you! Thank the gods … please! We need your help! Come quick!”
Before any of us can say a single word she pulls herself back in through the gap, but the door starts to swing open a little more as she leaves it. Looks like we found ‘em, then …