Just a little something
#1 of Stories!
I sneezed this up as a brief challenge for a friend of mine. Don't worry about who the characters are, as they're mostly episodic stand ins. A regular stable of guys and girls who get to hang out whenever there's a little writing exercise I'm inflicting upon myself.
Garran was going to die.
The thing advancing on them had dissected the fleeing merchant turned madman nearly instantly, and there was little hope he would suffer anything but the same fate. Still, he remembered his father's words, 'when you die, die with a sword in your hand and defiance on your lips.' Cold comfort now, even as he raised his blade in challenge. The misshapen thing scuttled toward them with its unnatural, five-legged gait and-
Xythus stepped ahead of him.
He said something. It was a word, but it wasn't a word. Garran slumped against the wall, ears ringing and nearly crumbling to the tile, Sarah choked like she'd been struck and Emma simply collapsed weeping. The oily thing skittered back, digging grooves in the marble, chirping as if in disbelief. Frozen in time, a moment passed, the squirrel staring it down. It gurgled and slithered up the wall, claws punching ragged holes in the woodwork until it disappeared into the shadows.
Sarah was the first to speak, "what in The Name was that?!" she wheezed, stumbling a step forward.
Shoulders slumping, strings cut, he shook his head slowly, "power." Turning his head, he coughed wetly and spit a sticky mix of blood onto the tile.
The young stoat picked himself up, glancing back at the sobbing form of Emma before glaring at Xythus, "you've got some damn explaining to do," he growled.
"It's, it's," he paused, taking a dizzy step and collapsing into a chair, staff clattering to the tile, "control, dominance, authority that those... _things_understand. More than just ritual, chant or sacrifice," pausing, he wiped a bloody streak onto the sleeve of his robe. "It was never meant for us, just as they were never meant for here."
Garran started to speak, but Kendrick gruffly cut him off, "leave it, brother. It's a path no one should have to walk." He turned towards him, and had to catch himself on the wall again, nearly losing his balance. At this point, Emma had picked herself back up, still sniffling.
"What's next?" she asked timorously.
"We find the black key, and we put it back where it belongs. Away," Xythus said flatly.