The rain would not let up. It drove down hard, striking the cobblestones in a loud, staccato rhythm. They moved noiselessly, the ranger’s magics hiding them from prying eyes as they slipped along through the shadows. On Al’s left stood a large park of trees and green, probably a beautiful place to sit and meet during the day. At night, however, with the moonlit-trees and heavy rain, the trees seemed like ancient fey creatures reaching out to skewer unwary travellers. The dragonborn had decided to take the lead, skulking forward slowly against the wall on his right, his eyes watching closely for anything that might be hiding in the park. A sudden cry from up ahead caught his attention. It was faint, and cut off, but Al was sure that he had heard the scream. Someone was in trouble!
Behind him, moving softly along the wet stones, Tanis caught the sight of movement in the shadows far to his left, past the park. It didn’t seem like anyone else had seen the movement, but his keen eyes didn’t miss much. As Tanis was about to mention something, he noticed Al’s change in posture. The dragonborn’s large frame was now squatting down, trying to take up very little space, and his eyes were focused ahead. One claw was held up, indicating for them to stop, but then Al pointed off in the distance emphatically, trying to direct their attention towards a row of buildings on the other side of the park. Tanis saw no movement, no sound from that direction. What had the dragonborn heard that the elves own ears could not have picked up?
The elf joined Al near the end of the park, the two skulking forward towards the row of boarded up housing that faced the central square of greenery. Brylla followed along with Audak and Boblin, the trio of warriors allowing the scouts to take the lead, but just as Al approached one of the windows there came an assault on their minds. Brylla turned to see that the others seemed to be experiencing it as well. Haunting images flew through her mind, tiny voices whispering promises of torture and pain. It felt relentless, an endless pressure of anguish that could surely drive someone mad were they to let it happen.
The dwarf steeled herself against the assault, reassuring her companions around her that it was just a trick, but in the daze of the whispers she realized that their tiny goblin companion was no longer next to her. Looking back, the dwarf’s eyes found him, weapon swinging back and forth as several tiny creatures dropped out of the nearby trees and surrounded him.
They were like nothing Brylla had seen before. They had faced many shadowy creatures and the walking dead, even vengeful spirit forces, during the invasion that had struck Lani, but nothing like these. They were small, even shorter than Boblin himself. Most dwarven children would have been able to see eye-to-eye with these monstrous beasts, and definitely out-weighed them. They seemed twisted, like they had once been something else but had now become these small creatures with beady eyes and claws. They moved silently, their white skin glowing in the moonlight as they stalked their prey. Their skin was covered in boils and blisters and rough hair, and there was something insect-like to them. They were not of this world, at least, not any part of Lani that Brylla had seen.
Boblin’s shield was keeping him mostly safe, his sword cutting a defensive swing around him as he tried to push them back and buy time for the others to arrive. It didn’t take long for the others to descend upon the small troupe of insect-like creatures, sending them scattering into the darkness, but it was already a little too late. Boblin lay on the ground, unable to move, some sort of curse or poison from the nightmarish fey coursing through his veins. His eyes darted back and forth, his mind still conscious but unable to do anything.
The little creatures kept trying to come back and pull Boblin away, only to be beat back again and again by the combined force of Brylla and her friends. Clearly, the tiny terrors preferred going after weaker prey and had not suspected this group of night wanderers to be a danger to them. As the last of them ran off into the night, they all gathered up around Boblin to keep watch while he recovered. Brylla bent down on the ground near Boblin’s face, sheltering his paralyzed face from the rain with her shield while reassuring the goblin with her usual calm manner.
Though they were safe now from the little ambushers, they had unfortunately been halted from finding the source of the cry that Al had heard. The critters had slowed them down, perhaps intentionally, and Brylla knew that likely meant that any chance of saving the source of the scream was likely gone. Another soul lost in Stone Ward. How many had been lost so far?
Roof Runners
It felt so frustrating to be completely aware and unable to move. Even his mouth wouldn’t open, nor could he even make a sound to warn others when one of the little creatures started pulling him across the hard stone ground. For all his lack of ability to move, there was no reduction in the pain of being dragged, fully-armored, across hard cobblestones. His would-be tormentors also took no care to avoid shoving his poor face into the ground as they pulled at his legs! When the pain stopped, and the tugging ceased, he realized that the others must have killed them, or scared them away. The cold rain water on the stones lapped at his face, splashing as it struck near his eyes, though Boblin couldn’t even close his lids to shield them. How long would he lie like this, unable to move?
The rain suddenly stopped as an armored knee pressed into the road by his face. Gentle hands turned him over and he could see the faces of the adventurers once more. The nice dwarven lady’s long red hair was soaked and matted, hanging down over him as she said something he couldn’t quite hear over the loud noise of the rain. The scary elf one was poking and prodding at him but Boblin could do nothing. He felt so helpless.
It was the tongue that moved first. Then, finally, being able to move his jaw and make a few sounds. His groan let the others know he was almost back to himself, but it was still painful and awkward. It took a moment for the rest of his body to start remembering how to move again, but eventually Boblin pulled himself up and wiped the dirt off his face. He whispered a thank you to the others, remembering that they were still trying to be quiet, before finding his gear that still lay upon the ground where he had dropped them.
As they walked past the park where they had been ambushed, Boblin’s eyes kept darting from tree to tree, trying to make sure no more of those creatures would suddenly jump out at them. His friends had beaten the last pack, leaving their corpses smashed into the cobblestones. He stayed closer to the others this time, not wanting to find himself an easy target.
They approached the wall of tightly-packed two-story row housing before them, following Al’s lead as the dragonborn peered into the first-floor windows. Most of the ground-floor windows had been boarded up in an attempt to protect those inside, though some had been broken through, revealing family rooms that had been tossed and turned by something savage. Boblin could imagine that the previous residents likely had not survived long after.
While the others climbed their way to the roofs above, Al and Boblin slid into one of the unlocked homes, making their way past the stairs that led upwards and into the downstairs kitchen that opened up into a shared courtyard behind. The large dragonborn before him was hunched down, his long trench coat pooling on the kitchen tiles. Boblin wasn’t sure what the spy was looking at, but he had grabbed a book and was whispering something. Above them, the goblin could hear the sounds of heavy feet rushing around on the roof, the shouts of battle carrying over the storm. The small novel in Al’s claw suddenly lit up inside the dragonborn’s coat, casting shadows in all directions, before Al tossed it out into the yard. Skittering shapes leapt away from the tree in the back yard, disappearing into the darkness of the rooftops.
Boblin’s companion in the dark kitchen was moving for the door, his long scaled legs eager to chase down the fleeing creatures. The warrior was about to follow when the boards behind him suddenly creaked. He spun quickly, bringing up a shield just in time to deflect the assassin’s strike. Looking down, the goblin’s heart rate rose, fear shaking him to his core as he recognized the clawed menace from earlier. One of its eyes was bloodied, and a large gash ran along one hair arm, but it had refused to stay away and had come back for its meal.
Though the creature’s appearance unnerved him, Boblin stood his ground, pushing the creature back into the mess of a family room that was between the goblin and the door. Al came to his side, his blade joining the fray to beat back the small creature. Now outnumbered, the bug-like tiny beast before them shrunk back before disappearing somewhere into the dark. They walked out of the door, trying to find where the creature had gone, only to hear a loud slam to their left.
Back to their Lair
He couldn’t make a sound, but in his head Audak was shouting. As the creature shoved him over the edge, he could do nothing but watch as the cobble stones two stories away rapidly approached his face. The insect-like thing on his back held onto him tightly as his several hundred pounds of goliath mass slammed full force into the roadway, smashing his face with excruciating pain. The expletives in his throat were trapped by the paralysis, unable to fight off whatever venom the beast had put into his veins.
The ground was wet from the storm, the pooling water threatening to cover his face until the creature above him started dragging him forward into the park. Somehow, Audak had lucked out into being flipped onto his back so he could stare up into the sky instead of the stones beneath him. His size was causing the little thing some trouble in moving him, though.
Good!
If he could have moved his lips to smile, he would have. The beady eyes above him were frantic, struggling to pull him away, but they were focused on Audak and not on the elf flying down from the roofs above. Audak wasn’t even sure the creature saw the sword before the elven hunter had removed the beast’s head from its shoulders. Its blood spilled down on his forehead, running down his cheek, but at least he wasn’t being dragged anymore.
“There are more!” he heard Tanis say, looking off down the street. Audak couldn’t turn his head but he saw the large form of the dragonborn run by, followed by the telltale steel boots of the goblin. Audak was alone, in the street, the rain beating down upon him, the sounds of battle so close.
For a bred warrior, this was torture of the most devious kind. Whatever these creatures had thought to put in his head to turn his mind could never have been as effective as the sounds of battle against evil being just around the corner, yet being helpless to join it. There were shrieks, and a blast of light connecting to the sky above that must have been Brylla’s work. The barbarian’s ears could not move, but they heard every sound of the boots slapping against the wet stone, and the soft noise of blade sinking deep into flesh.
And the sound of approaching claws.
Audak couldn’t turn his head to see what it was, but it was running. On all fours, possibly, based on the rhythm that the barbarian was hearing. It was quiet though, unnaturally so, covering its quick movements with the sound of the storm and the battle, relying on the distraction to take advantage of the barbarian’s prone position. Claws drove into his shoulders again as the thing latched on and began dragging him into the underbrush. Another one! How many of these creatures were infesting this ward?
The branches of bushes and shurbs slashed at his face as he was dragged through the park, the sky no longer shining its light clearly down upon him. From here, he could see only his captor. The creature was struggling, as the other had, with the goliath’s weight, but it wouldn’t be long before he reached his lair and the others lost him. Audak didn’t even have the ability to close his eyes to pray.
A large form stamped through the underbrush, snapping twigs and branches as it pounded closer. The creature holding him seemed to pause, unsure of what to do for a moment, and Audak saw its eyes stare off towards the street before the shaft of an arrow pierced its skull. His captor went rigid for a moment, unmoving, before collapsing to the ground next to Audak’s face. His eyes stared into his would-be tormentor’s dead gaze.
There was no noise as the dragonborn stepped silently over to him and stared down into Audak’s eyes, waving with his claw to someone nearby to come over. The spy’s split-pupil eyes scanned Audak’s frozen face, whispering to him “We’ll get you out of here.”
Audak could have sworn he heard the sound of tiny claws skittering across the branches of the trees above him. A shadowy form slipped by, just out of the corner of his eye. They weren’t out of this yet!
Credits
- Cover image: “Meenlock”, composite image by Jason St-Cyr. Meenlock character generated by Jason St-Cyr using NightCafe, based on D&D 5e Meenlock creature art by Filip Burburan (copyright Wizards of the Coast). Background is “Fantasy Desktop Wallpaper 05612” by Grimwals AI Fantasy
St-Cyr Thoughts 
Leave a comment