Mortals were easily corrupted. On reflection, everything was. Land, creatures, vegetation, and mortals - all equally able to succumb to the draw of evil. Some willingly, others just as collateral to powers beyond their imagining. I remembered a time when it had seemed like a game to me - play the young nobles off against each other, sow discord, and lure the weak-willed to my side with false promises. It was as if the natural state of the world was slowly decaying away, a dead planet with few remaining candles to light the darkened path to safety.

“Why does it have to smell so bad.” Florence gagged as she whispered sharply, more of a pointed statement than a question to be resolved.

Even with our faces covered with cloth and hands clutching at our noses, the smell that had sunk thickly into our chosen tunnel was nigh overwhelming. It was hard to imagine something that smelt worse than death itself, and while decay was part of the bouquet of foul aromas - there was something else more malign.

Beyond that of rot, there was the acrid stench of illness. Infection or some other malady that the body screamed out to you wasn’t normal. Layering on top of that was foul magic. It was subtle and overpowered mostly by the more vividly concocted smells, but myself and perhaps Florence would be able to pick it out. It gave reason that this was not just some creature that had crawled down here and died - but something borne of ill intent.

I paused, causing glares from those behind me at having to hang about in the malaise for a few seconds longer. There was something about the tunnel I hadn’t noticed as my senses were on fire from the odor - but this section didn’t look so roughly carved out as the previous parts of the under-village had.

Under the dim light, I put my hand against the wall. Damp.

My eyes scoured the ceiling and floor. I almost didn’t dare to speak out loud and risk inhaling more than I could handle, but their confused glares didn’t look any less so as I pointed to the muddy walls.

“Village had a well, I take it?” I held the cloth to my mouth as I spoke to drown out the taste from reaching my tongue. Only mildly effective.

Two shrugs, but Angelos nodded and then put his hand to the wall. A second of thought and he looked back at me with another nod.

It was still a bit of a guess at this stage, but my amateur assumption would be that something foul had either come to - or been placed in - the well of the village. The water supply had been poisoned in a way that made the villagers susceptible to being mind controlled - or at least have their moods influenced. To what end, I was not yet sure. Sometimes, these things didn’t have a concrete plan. Things just happened until one end unraveled.

Other times, the truth was even more unbelievable than what your imagination could envisage.

Florence stopped and hunched over in a half-crouch. Jakob helped her up as Angelos cast his rejuvenation magic on her. It didn’t seem to lessen the nausea caused by the air down here, but it gave her some strength to continue.

In truth, I was feeling a little light-headed myself. There was only so much I could tune out, and my attempts to breathe less had become exhausting. Imagine being felled by my own hesitation to regulate my breathing properly. I allowed a deep sigh and slowly filled my lungs in the hopes that apprehension would allow me to avoid the worst of it all.

It did not.

At first, it seemed as though the tunnel stopped at a dead end - the muddy rock ahead blocking our path, but as I neared with sinking hopes, there was a passage at a right angle on the left.

I stopped before reaching that point and held my hand up for silence. The smell was strongest here, and it was dizzying. My eyes closed, dry and sore, so that I could focus on something other than the pounding of my overwhelmed nose. There was… something else. A thrumming of a living being, either a heartbeat or similar rhythmic noise coming from nearby.

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Briefly, my mind skittered around questions. Was the ale tainted? I had sensed nothing untoward with it. How did I feel about the village now? No different, I didn’t think. These tunnels aside, it seemed like a comfortable enough place to stay - instead of going to the Warrens. As long as no other visitors came here, of course, we wanted to keep this village for ourselves.

Keep it safe and well-fed. At least until it hatched.

I closed the mental door, putting the weight of centuries of experience behind it to stow away the thoughts that weren’t mine. Kill the monster. I reminded myself to kill the monster. That is the one truth. Remember that above all else. Kill. The. Monster.

And, of course… I was a monster.

My tongue lagged around my lips as I fought the lull of a fevered sleep. The beast was clever, but self-preservation had been baked into my core. I outlived all because I did whatever it took not to die. My eyes twinkled crimson as I looked over at the rest of the Party.

The younglings had collapsed, breathing heavily as they tried to support each other. But their eyes were closed. So weak I could kill and eat them with no issue. Angelos was still standing and surprisingly lucid, only wavering on his feet slightly with wide eyes. Of course, he had seen plenty during his time. While he was outside of the normal Ranking designations, he had lived several lives between E and F and seen all the foul, low-hanging fruit this dying tree had to offer.

He caught my eye and understood my brief intention. Hand extended, he cast his grey light of healing on me, his knees shaking.

Although I was physically unharmed, the healing helped clear my head somewhat. Where the monster had made its mistake was in both exhausting us as well as trying to turn us against each other. Or perhaps it had no intent of either, and we were just along for whatever ride we became unfortunate enough to tether ourselves to.

I stepped out, alone, into the hewn doorway. It was thinner than most of the tunnels, with only just enough space for my overt form to fit through. It quickly opened up to a wide chamber. The domed walls looked sticky and wet with ichor, and my boots struck shallow water as I took one step into the room.

The source of everything became clear now, even in the dim light. A shaft of weak sunlight streamed down from a hole in the ceiling, barely illuminating the enormous figure directly underneath.

At first, I thought it was some manner of maggot. Despite it being the size of one of the cottages of the village, the pallid yellowy flesh fashioned into a giant sack with a small head at one end gave that theory credence. From the other end, where fist-sized impassive eyes weren’t staring back at me, the back end of the monster was seeping a viscous fluid into the shallow pool that filled the chamber.

But no, a reminder of what the intrusive thoughts had tried to tell me - this wasn’t just a maggot; this was a pupa. Something gestating until it could hatch.

Begone.

A voice scratched at the inside of my skull, and I almost turned around in reflex.

Keep the village safe.

The village did need to be safe, that much I could agree on. Where the creature and I differed was on how that goal should be reached. Crimson flame flared up across my greatsword, illuminating more of the chamber in hellish red.

Fool. Do not force my hand.

It had no hands that I could see but a worrying grasp on the common tongue. I tried to keep my mind free of distractions and not question anything more than two points. How to kill the monster. How to get my party away safely. Luckily, between my sword and I, we came up with a single answer to suit both inquiries.

[Enrage] burst through me, adrenaline warming my tired muscles and washing away the numbness of my overburdened senses. It had caused the villagers to be angered at us, but I was fully in control of my rage. I ran forward, thick water splashing up, and I enclosed the short distance to the bulbous monstrosity.

Just as I got into striking distance, a tear ran down the yellowed skin, a gash of greenish-black blood running from it before I had even a chance to swing. Not that it could prevent me from from continuing my intent.

My sword caused the abomination to glow red as it arced down towards it.

A hand burst out from the opened wound of the creature. Clawed, greyish skin that was sodden with whatever foul ichor it had been stewing in. It grabbed onto my sword strike - instantly cutting down into the palm and almost severing the whole hand as the long fingers wrapped around the blade.

Another hand slithered out from the sac to assist in holding my sword - they were surprisingly strong, and I struggled to lever my weapon back from them, eventually succesful as I rent their fingers from the frasping palms. I did not fail to notice that they were both right hands.

I stumbled backward as I spun my blade, unsure as to whether randomly hacking away at the emerging form would make things worse quicker or not. As if to reward my patience, the self-imposed gash ran up the maggot’s form further as more hands pushed out, eager for release. Multiple eyes of bright yellow peered out from within the darkened cocoon at odd placements and sizes.

It’s time to eat, my children.