by Jeff Sproul
The next person waited… and then went.
Then the next, and the next.
"Next group, form up!" said Minara. "You all, keep heading in!" she said to the ones already in line.
Cynthia stood up. "Alright you sneaky folk, time to hunt!" she said as she then proceeded to call off a series of names. Each person shot out of their seat and rushed to form a line behind Cynthia.
Chaxin watched in amazement as people filed into line and formed up. There were four other commanders waiting at the table Minara had been at. In no time at all, Boru's entire group went through the portal.
Cynthia rushed through the portal, and in three-second intervals, her underlings followed.
"Don't forget to keep moving when you're through the portal!" said Minara.
Her gaze kept flickering to the bindlet on her arm.
"I wonder who we've been stuck with," Verun murmured.
"Don't know," said Chaxin. "We might be at the end. Everyone else probably knows what's going on, moreso than us."
"Well, I suppose that makes it safer for us," said Verun, still keeping his voice low. "Which, I'm quite partial to, actually."
Cynthia's group made it through the portal, and the next commander was already lined up. A younger man with a fierce look in his eyes, he didn't look to be much older than Chaxin, but his arms and face were littered with strange scars. He had bronze skin and a jet black mane of hair running back from his head.
More people were called out as the tavern emptied into the portal, one by one.
Minara's bindlet hadn't so much as flickered, and she appeared to be noticeably relaxing as time went on, but once her last commander was through the portal, she stepped forward.
"The rest of you, get your asses up. You're with me," she said.
Chaxin and Verun stood, realizing then that they were going to be with Minara during the assault.
"I'm starting to think that we may not be all that safe if Minara is our group leader," Verun sighed. "I can't help but feel as though we're going into the belly of the beast directly under her command."
"Who knows," said Chaxin, trying to keep his voice low enough for only Verun to hear. "But we're about to find out."
Minara gestured for the first person in line to head into the portal. "I'll be the last one in, go."
Verun reached the line before Chaxin, which put Chaxin at the end, as no one else was still seated at the tables. Not even Senna had joined in to watch the excursion. Nessa and Tamos were nowhere in sight. Perhaps they already returned to the ship, since there wouldn't have been much to trade for.
In three second intervals, the people ahead of Verun went through the portal. Chaxin wondered if their time was almost up, and if the portal was at risk of shutting down, but Minara had said nothing to warrant such.
Soon, it was just the three of them, with Verun about to go through the portal.
"Keep your mouth shut out there," Minara warned, her piercing gaze residing on Verun.
Verun nodded, but said nothing. Then, he stepped up into the portal, and was gone.
Chaxin was left with Minara. He walked over and stopped in front of the portal. It seemed… peaceful? Serene?
"Some of us have been waiting a long time for this," Minara said. "But for you, time has barely moved."
Chaxin looked over to her. "That's right."
"You're probably the weakest among us," she said. "Do your best to stay alive. We're going to need everyone when this is over."
Chaxin nodded. "I will."
"Good," Minara whispered. "Now get going. I'll be right behind you."
Chaxin swallowed and let out a breath. He looked back to the portal and stepped forward. He slowed as he neared the portal, but then, with just a few small steps, he disappeared into it.
Chapter 31: Grittin
Chaxin's eyes opened as he came out the other side of the portal. In the tavern, there had been almost no sound, as he and Minara had been the last two in the room.
A cacophony of noises assailed his ears. Rain pattered off the rooftops and ground around him. Heavy droplets dotted his head and clothes. A breeze rushed through the street he was in. A strange stench filled his nostrils. He'd been in Grittin before. It hadn't smelled like this.
There was an unusual heavy odor, something between decay and smoke. He couldn't place it, but he realized he'd smelled the strange decaying musk before, when he was on the shore outside the abandoned town.
Only a couple seconds passed as his senses registered the strange odors, and his eyes darted around.
He was in the middle of an open cobblestone street. The ground was muddy. Wood and stone hovels—packed one upon the other—rose all around him, easily five stories high. It reminded him of the architecture and style of Trillin, where homes had to be packed in and built high to accommodate the populace. The upper tiers looked newer than the bottom three stories.
It was then that something occurred to him. He was alone in the street.
Shouts suddenly echoed against the buildings nearby. He realized that what he'd been hearing in the distance was being partially drowned out with the ping of raindrops.
He couldn't make out words or particular voices, only constant yells and shouting in the distance coming from multiple sources.
He turned around, expecting to see the rest of the fighters from Kamber. Weren't they supposed to appear in the fortress? This didn't look like the fortress by any means.
As he turned, he looked into the sky. Deep black clouds had rolled in. Streaks of light flashed high in the sky, accompanied by sudden booms that reverberated in his chest and pounded in his ears.
Behind him was an empty street that curved about a hundred feet away, preventing him from seeing any further.
His gaze lifted above the rooftops, and for a moment, he didn't understand what he was seeing. A tall, glistening, black pillar rose into the sky from several streets away. It was as thick as a dozen homes smashed together. It looked oily and alive.
As Chaxin's gaze followed the ominous column into the sky, a sudden flash of light lit up the terribly stormy sky and gave way to the fact that this wasn't the only such pillar. In that instant of illumination, he'd noticed three other obelisks stretching up into the atmosphere, disappearing into the storm clouds.
He whipped his head around to see if there were others, but the lightning wasn't frequent enough to show him.
"What's going on?" he muttered under his breath, hands shaking. He gripped the pommel of his saber and backstepped in the street, keeping his eyes on the sky and that oily pillar.
But even as he watched it, an ache filled his head. A dull throb pulsed in his mind, and for an instant, he couldn't help but remember the pain he'd felt in his head when Verun had spoken those strange words in Purgatory.
His eyes widened. Pieces of his thoughts were starting to connect. Verun's speech magic which connected him with a nameless entity. The reeking odor surrounding the shore, just before one of the nameless passed over the region. Was this… were these otherworldly pillars… a nameless?
Even as such thoughts entered his mind, a nearby scream cut through the air and caused him to turn the way he'd been looking when he arrived. There had been no portal to exit from. His body had simply appeared, as if it was launched through space to arrive at this destination.
The rain came down sporadically, not as evenly as it had when it had rained on the day of his death. Street lamps dotted his surroundings, allowing for some visibility on the ground. He took hesitant steps forward and drew his saber. He cautiously walked down the bending street that veered to the left.
Another scream and inaudible shouts of terror.
He stepped forward, then moved quicker, heading around the street, while glancing to the rooftops to try and determine anything in the distance. He needed to find the fortress. He remembered it being tall, above everything else. Hopefully the lightning would illuminate it if he kept an eye out.
Movement came from
a hundred feet ahead. He drew his mage-caster and shifted closer to the nearby buildings on his left. There didn't seem to be any lights on within the buildings themselves, only those on the street.
A man and a woman appeared in view. Their were clothes soaked through, darker than they'd normally be. Their arms pumped as they rushed around the bend and down the street. Chaxin kept his weapons low, his wide eyes on them the entire time as they ran past, seemingly not even noticing him on the side of the street. Their faces were the epitome of terror and panic.
Chaxin wanted to call to them, but even as this notion entered his mind, they were already rushing further and further away. Perhaps it was best that he keep to himself. The dark pillars surely had the city in a panic. If he was fortunate, he might be able to get to the fortress without having to fight any of the guard. His expectations for what it would be like in the city were almost nonexistent. He hadn't been in Grittin for very long before, but the city had changed. Was the populace more carefully managed now? Were they allowed to roam the streets? The two that ran past didn't look to be from the tavern. They didn't look like soldiers either. They hadn't even been carrying any weapons.
As his gaze averted from the two individuals, movement from the way they'd been running caught his attention.
Another figure entered his vision. A man with short black hair and semi darkened skin. He ran and closed in about fifty feet from Chaxin.
Chaxin stopped moving, and the man kept running, seemingly not noticing him yet.
The man lost his footing and slipped. He fell face-first and smacked into the street.
Chaxin winced as he watched the man go down. His eyes narrowed. He wanted to help him up, but perhaps it was best to leave him alone?
The man's hands reached out and clawed at the dirty cobblestones. "Ahh… ghh!" the man groaned as he pulled himself along. "Hel… phh"
Chaxin's brow furrowed as he watched the man. It was then that he spotted something strange. An odd movement at the end of the man's pant leg. Where the man had fallen, his boots now lay behind him several feet away. Sprouting out from his pant legs were two glistening gray tendrils that writhed against the stones of the street.
Chaxin's grip on his saber tightened as he found himself staring at the man.
"Ha… lph," the man muttered, spitting up some sort of black ichor onto the ground.
In his peripheral vision, Chaxin saw more movement. He turned his head, and at first, he thought his eyes had to be playing tricks on him. He blinked rapidly to clear what surely had to be cloudy vision, even though the rain hadn't been thick enough to hinder his sight.
Several new figures lumbered into view from up the street. At first, he wasn't sure if he was seeing one entity, or several. He took a step back as the lamp light reflected off their glistening, slick appendages. There were scraps of cloth, remnants of tunics and pants. But there was no semblance of humanity among the twisted limbs that slithered forward and lashed about.
From the mass of tendrils, a writhing form broke away. Its toothy maw was distended and grotesque. It turned to Chaxin, facing him with no apparent eyes.
As the rest of the mass continued down the street towards the fallen man, this entity slithered closer towards Chaxin, moving almost silently until one of its tendrils smacked against the cobblestones.
With wide eyes, Chaxin whipped the mage-caster up. His thumb was about to press to the activation rune to draw the string back, but he realized he hadn't even grabbed a bolt yet. And if he shot this creature, would it even do much damage? He could partially make out that the maw had to be some sort of head, but if he went and used all his mana to fight this, and potentially the larger mass of tendrils approaching the man, would he have enough mana for getting into the fortress? He swallowed and lowered the mage-caster and brought the saber up. He watched how the tendrils lashed and squirmed. The creature inched closer and closer towards him. He began to make out a faint breathy hiss coming from the toothy maw.
He wasn't sure what these creatures were, but from the looks of it, they might've once been human. He couldn't stay here. He had to keep moving.
The creature moved towards him at little more than a walking pace. He took a quick glance at the man clawing his way down the street. In that instant, the man's mouth opened. He retched and gasped as a terrible cracking sound emanated from his body, only for one of those gray tentacles to expel from between his teeth and tear the sides of his mouth open.
The sheer sight of it made Chaxin seize up in place as bile rose in his throat.
One by one, more tendrils ripped out of the man's body. It wasn't long before Chaxin couldn't see any human skin at all, for all the sickly gray-green flesh of the tendrils.
Chaxin whipped his head back around and spotted the mass of tentacles closing in on him. Who knew how many more of these things were around the city? He had to test himself against them while he had the chance. The path toward the fortress could be littered with such monstrosities.
The creature before him wasn't moving too quickly. Its tendrils beat randomly but surely he could avoid them. The only true question now was how easy were they to kill?
His time was running out. His heart was pumping. Without further thought, he dashed forward. As he closed in on the monster, its tendrils reached and swung at him, but he didn't give them a chance to touch him as he cut them down with his saber.
The blade sliced through the nearest tendril and sheared it clean off. Thick black and gray ichor spilled out onto the street. The creature hissed and gurgled and its head craned and lunged out, its maw widening to terrible proportions.
Chaxin turned his wrist and reversed the direction of the blade. He swung and cut into the creature's neck, but not all the way. Its teeth gnashed inches from his face, and his blade was stuck.
Without second guessing his actions, he slid his fingers out and squeezed the trigger on the hilt.
Bang!
There was a sudden burst of light as the burning bullet tore into the creature's neck and sunk further into its body, causing a sharp sizzling sound to emanate from the beast's core as a wisp of smoke trailed out.
The monster seized up, and in that moment's respite, Chaxin ripped his saber free. Its gaping maw lashed out, but before those teeth could connect, his saber finished what it started and sliced clean through its neck.
The creature's mouth flopped and spasmed onto the street as the rest of its body recoiled, twitching and writhing, but seemingly not dying.
Chaxin backed away rapidly, his chest rising and falling as he took in his surroundings.
The larger mass of tendrils had reached the transformed man. Now, it was impossible to tell which of the limbs were once the man, and which had previously been the larger entity. It was as if it had incorporated him into itself.
And that monstrosity was now slithering towards him.
Even though he hadn't managed to kill his first quarry, he took several precious moments to re-arm his gun saber and slot a bolt securely into the mage-caster.
He couldn't continue to resort to mana-intensive ranged attacks.
His gaze flit between the large mass and his previous quarry. The smaller entity didn't continue its approach and was writhing and flailing its limbs around in place. It wasn't dead by any means, but at least it seemed somewhat immobile, or at least unwilling or unable to pursue him.
Thinking that fighting the larger entity was a futile endeavor, he decided to run.
He dashed around the smaller creature, which posed no problem. He turned his head and saw the larger monster still pursuing him, but it wasn't quick by any means.
He turned his attention ahead and kept running through the street. By now, his clothes were soaked through with rain. His pulse throbbed in his ears. Now that he wasn't directly confronted by the monsters, he could make out more shouts and screams from nearby streets. He spotted a broken down door and could hear screams coming from within, but he kept running. There was nothing he could do. He couldn
't waste time here, not when others were counting on him.
Despite this, a pang of guilt remained with him. He was passing by people in need. What if he could save them? What if rushing to the aid of others from the strike group wasn't necessary? Minara had said it herself. He was the weakest among them. Was he even needed? What could he do that others wouldn't be better suited for?
He shook the notions from his mind as he ran down the street. Occasionally he passed by an unmanned cart. Sometimes there were crates or debris. The foul odor in the air was more prevalent in some places than others. It was nauseating, but so far he'd managed to keep his stomach down. Part of him wished he hadn't eaten as much as he had.
The sky lit up from time to time; when it did, he looked around to get his bearings. Finally, he spotted it. It had been difficult to see because one of the large pillars had smashed through part of the fortress and he'd missed it at first glance.
He reached a four-way intersection and headed to the left so that he could get closer to the fortress. It wasn't terribly far away, but he had some running to do.
His arms pumped. He gripped his weapons tight. It was strange. He wasn't seeing many people. So far, he hadn't even seen anyone from his strike force. Perhaps they'd somehow been spread out across the city. And if people in Grittin were turning into those strange monsters, then—
He stumbled to an abrupt halt as he came around a bend. Before him was a congregation of multiple tentacled horrors. Three large masses, with half a dozen smaller creatures moving around in between. One broke down a nearby door and disappeared into one of the nearby homes. The lamp light nearby caused the sickly skin of the creatures to glisten.
The terrible stench was even stronger now. He brought his arm up to cover his nose as best he could, at least to alleviate some of the foulness.
Two of the smaller monsters shifted and writhed, then began heading directly towards him.
He looked for possible avenues through the multitude of creatures, but there was no easy way through. They were effectively blocking the way unless he wanted to risk getting within reach of their lashing tendrils, some of which extended out five or six feet from the monsters.
