The dense Hansberg forest embraced Hamoutan as he knelt down, covered in the mud feeling the cold wetness seeping through his uniform. The green uniform now turned darker, as the Mosalli on the top of his head changed its colour to suit its surroundings.

Krosch was on the mud, crouched down near Hamoutan, his cigarette burning in the air, and the smoke right into Hamou’s lungs, the vile stench of tobacco overtaking every other smell near him, be it the Nixsteel, or the swamp.

He inched a bit closer, as the smoke made Hamou cough and grunt. Krosch chuckled and took the cigarette in one hand, putting it away on his Nixsteel armor. The armor took no scorch off heat as the cigarette became stiff, like it was frozen into submission. Hamou finally stopped coughing and looked up at Krosch, it was almost like an eclipse, the man was towering over Hamoutan like a cat over a canary.

‘He looks extremely big… Not my chance for physical conflict.’ Hamou thought and looked down onto the mud, trembling, looking at the men. ‘I should have just turned and walked away for the evening!’

The guilt over his decisions weighed him down as his heart was racing, his eyes welling up with little droplets of tears. ‘Who’s gonna feed Seyvic and Ileya if I get abducted? The shelter program doesn’t apply for non-soldiers.. ’

He was snapped back to reality as Krosch grabbed Hamou’s chin with his huge hand, forcing Hamou to look at him. The Mosalli on the top of his head was shivering and sunken into a deep dark black to match his hair.

The stench of burnt Nixsteel grew stronger, as the Mosalli didn’t dare make a move. Hamou stared at the armor Krosch was wearing, it was definitely made by a master. No one in the black market can make something like that, an artifact of pure quality.

The light blue shine overlapping with the ghostly white colour, made it look majestic. But it was far from anything majestic.

“Doesn’t look like you’ve got a weapon on you.” Krosch said and spat to the side.

“Wouldn’t hurt to check, though we’ve got less time. There may be others with him.” Sipp said, holding her Nix spear away from her body, in a charging position. “He’s not normal at any cost. Worse, he could be a Fleshwalker for all we know!”

Another wave of whisper went through the crowd as everybody had their hands on their sheaths. The men had heard about it all back in their homes when they were children.

A Fleshwalker. Nightmares of many, the death of some. Rumored to be seen around the southern parts of the peninsula, they are usually described as a disproportionately slimy humanoid who can imitate humans, uncanny movements, and a grotesque exoskeleton… known to be around swamps generally. They feast on the flesh and feed on the fear to drown you slowly, but surely.

‘Fleshwalker? What is that?’ Hamoutan was confused.

Krosch nodded and stepped far away from the boy, hand on his sheath.

‘Sipp is right, who could know? Even if he’s not a fleshwalker, the kid could have moonlit corals for god’s sake. Better check him than be sorry.’

“Hands up, no quick movements, boy. Unless you want to regret it.” Krosch said.

“I would have killed you if I had any weapons on me by now.” Hamou said while trembling.

Krosch let out a shaky chuckle.

“You have no chance in killing me in a million lifetimes, not a scratch. Now hands up in the air.”

He walked up to Hamoutan, still keeping his distance. "Drop everything you have."

Hamou complied, and threw down all the logs, a magazine, and his recruit badge, along with sleeping pills his tentmate Barru had lent him, and finally the dual Brokmane daggers. Which made Urech, the boy who spotted it gasp along with the rest of the crew, as whispers and stern faces looked at him disbelief. He could have fought back.

'But it would be a slaughter.' Hamou reassured himself that he didn't stand a chance.

Krosch saw the bottle of sleeping pills, and opened it.

'Maybe he'll accidentally swallow one!' Hamou thought and stood there. Krosch took one of those in his hand and smelt it, his face then turned into one of sheer disgust, hostility, and anger, and looked directly at Hamoutan.

"Moonlit corals.. I knew it." He whispered.

Hamoutan was confused. 'Moonlit corals? '

'They are sleeping pills you stupid fuck. The one my friend had given me! I was able to sleep peacefully with it for days, and yet feel replenished beyond anything imaginable the next day! Wait.'

He went into realisation and looked at Krosch's face, which was one of pure terror.

"I thought you were a refugee who was disguised here, the remnants of your tribe. Turns out you are just like the rest of them, an addiction beyond repair, taking from the sea god. A slave. Pathetic." Krosch said. There was no longer a questioning needed. He knew what he needed to know. Same origin or not, taking from the sea is pathetic.

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'Remnants? what?' Hamou thought."You're misunderstanding! I didn't know-"

"Shut up. The rest of you head to the harbour. While me and, you two, question him." Krosch said as he gestured to 2 of the men in long robes standing at two corners of the crew to come near.

The rest of the crew wanted to leave, but they didn't.

"As you said young Krosch, the Chaktri would barely be able to rebuild after that, leave alone assasins." An old man's voice sounded from the chariot. "It wouldn't hurt to finish the work."

"Elder Irah.." Krosch muttered and gestured everybody to stay still. Sipp, Urech and every one of the crew just stood there, waiting for the verdict.

"We'll finish this first."

Sipp, Urech and every one of the crew just stood there, waiting for the verdict.

Hamou grit his teeth and put his hands up as two men in long ragged robes, with hoods covering their faces, moved to him. It was like their entire existence beneath their hood was dark. No one could see what was under. The stench of Nixsteel on them was lesser, but still very obvious.

‘They must have ranks between each other, a hierarchy! If I could only exploit that..’ Hamou thought. ‘But how…’

The two men in ragged robes, with thin long fingers and ashen fingernails gestured to him to turn back. It was done twice, by both men pointing 2 fingers at him and gesturing to him to turn about. Both at the same time. Their fingers were as thin as dead skeletons, yet they moved seamlessly, with a grotesque sound though, however, might just be the Nixsteel. Their robes covered their feet, one would guess.

Hamoutan bit his lip violently. ‘I’m not gonna get killed by these fucking bandits! No chance!’

But he complied. He didn’t want to, but wanting or not wanting could spell death.

‘All of this, all my life I worked so hard for! It’s going to be a waste, and I can do nothing about it.’

Hamoutan slowly turned around with his back facing them, his knees adjusting and sinking deeper into the soil. His hands were up the whole time.

‘A single bad move and they will kill me.’ Hamou thought while shivering. He’d liked to have believed it was from the cold of the earth, but it was his fear taking over.

‘I don’t want to die…’

"You're going to answer some questions first, but won't talk until I tell you to." Krosch said from far away.

In his vision was the trunk of a tree, old yet strong, the roots spread as far as the land itself. Though the tree had enough water from the swamp, his eyes began watering it. He could hear heavy footsteps behind him, closing in.

The sound of heavy, rusty chains and bones grinding together, with sloppy noises of wet soil being stepped on by something heavy. Clothes dragging onto the soil, making a screeching noise.

Suddenly, a huge shattering roar sounded throughout the place. Hamoutan’s head shook intensely from the sound and a vibration, like his head was being stepped on, as the little Mosalli began pulling on his hair and screamed out like a cry for help.

Hamoutan had recognised the voice pattern, the thing was scared, frightened and beaten without a way out. Its pack had abandoned it. A cornered animal with nothing to lose in the presence of a predator.

But there were no predators there.

‘You damn lizard! You’re going to get us both killed!’ Hamou thought while it gripped his hair with its small webbed feet sticking onto the head like glue.

The Mosalli had turned feral, roaring and shivering, while Hamou attempted to wipe his tears on his shoulder. It was now moving around on his head like it was backing up, roaring, making clicking noises. In a swift motion, It’s thin tail, spiked like a rose, wrapped around into a spiral. It was held high into the air.

“What?” Krosch said, looking at the Mosalli, which was now sneering, spitting green saliva onto the mud.

The heavy footsteps slowed down, as if waiting for an order.

“There’s nothing to worry about, it’s the formation of the Mosalli pack’s defensive circle. Though, you know, they’re dangerous if they’re together. Alone they’re nothing, just weaklings waiting to be slaughtered.” The boy near Krosch spoke up.

Krosch nodded, good thing he brought with him a walking bestiary.

“That’s assuring, you’ve finally said something useful Urech.” He praised the boy, patting his back.

“We don’t have time for this, just kill if it stands in the way.”

This made the boy repulse, but the order was issued. As the heavy footsteps began again, walking and slowly creeping up behind Hamoutan. They would swallow over every single sound in the surrounding, even the roar of the Mosalli.

Hamoutan, now shivering, slowly turned his head back, glancing with the side of his eye, to see what the Mosalli was so worked up about.

There he saw him, the man. 4 feet, no, probably 6 feet back? Didn’t matter to Hamoutan. The Nixsteel’s stench was there now, but a lot less than the smell of rotting, burnt flesh. There was only one of them now, the other just stood behind the one approaching.

His eyes drifted under the man’s hood. But it was no man. Then he saw it and gasped loudly. There was little to no way to describe what he saw, and he finally understood the little Mosalli's cries.

Beneath the hooded cloak lay, a gray, perhaps pale white, grotesque patchwork of bones, flesh and Nix steel.

Scorched black flesh making the silhouette of a face under the hood, a long diagonal maw went from the temple to the side of the chin marred its face. With rows of jagged, crooked teeth peeking through the outside in uneven proportions, and a thin tongue of disproportionate thickness, sinuous and repulsive, slithered forth from the ghastly slit.

Below this monstrous mouth, where a human's mouth would be expected, instead resides an eyeball, an unblinking sentinel with red nerves peeking outside the slits beside.

The creature raised its skeletal finger near its maw, pointing at Hamoutan, which made him scream out, as he tried to get up from the mud in a frenzy, attempting an escape.

“STAY…. STILL.”

Hamoutan froze on his tracks. He knew it. The voice wasn’t playing around, it sounded almost like it was speaking through metal… mechanic. He turned around and saw face to face against the creature, now only 2 steps away from him, its stinking breath reaching up to him. Just looking at it, he felt like it’s skin would feel coarse to touch.

Its fingers slowly drifted up in the air from the robe, up to Hamou’s chest, placing its index finger on it.

“IF I WANT, I COULD KILL YOU RIGHT NOW,” echoed the creature with a faint metallic resonance.

Hamoutan, who was already shivering, now started sobbing.

“Please… don’t..”

It reached it’s fingers slowly up near his neck, it’s tongue nearing the Mosalli.

Suddenly, a huge flash of light blinded everyone in an instant including the monster as the crew hurled and buried their hands onto their sheaths. Everyone grunted and made a formation for battle, as the monsters roared while covering their eyeball with their seemingly stick-like hands.

Yet Urech finally remembered what it was. 'That wretched lizard!'

The blinding.

It was the last line of defense for the Mosalli.