Cronn lunges towards Belial, twisting his body to one side and avoiding the lashing claws that spring towards him. A horrible screech sounds out as the black nails grind against stone. Then, another. Cronn's ax slashes at the back of the attacking arm, severing two ends of a muscle from one another. Belial quickly rips his paw free of where it had been lodged, slinging debris towards himself and Cronn. With a diving roll, Cronn manages to slip between each of the largest chunks and comes out unscathed. He then looks towards his former partner, noticing the wound that he had cauterized and the singed fur surrounding it. Belial gives a deafening roar as he looks in Cronn's direction; Half his face still being made up of human-like features, which are lain out over blackened skin. The nightmarish beast gives Cronn a chilled spine each time he makes eye contact with it, but he shakes it off as best he can and continues fighting.
"Cronn.... Pureblood Cronn...." Belial's voice flows steadily from a mouth that seems incapable of speech. As if the man himself is somewhere behind curtains. "Leave this cursed monument of falsity. Lest you find yourself in a deluded grave."
"Speak not of the Purebloods, Belial!" Cronn commands, casting loose flames from his ax as he whips it to one side. "You lost that right when you attempted to murder Convener Achlys!"
The human eye displays a brief look of shock as Belial stands on his hind legs and glances towards Achlys' chambers.
"Attempted?" Rage boils up in the beast's chest cavity, showing itself through aggressive breathing and the snorting of flared nostrils. "Ah... I smell it now. The putrid ichor. It's... alluring." A low, menacing chuckle takes the place of Belial's words as he continues to sniff at the heavens. Dropping back onto all four legs, he presses his snout against the ground, blowing dust and pebbles away as he tracks Achlys' scent.
Noticing this, Cronn begins to quietly step further from the columns. Giving Belial enough room to move past him. Once the beast- completely distracted by a keen sense of smell- reaches the middle of the great hall, Cronn pulls a longbow from the limp hand of a deceased Nostrum, nocks an arrow, and fires. Just as Belial once again raises his head, the whistling arrow plunges into the back of his neck, right below the skull. Startled by the attack, he rips at the penetrating silver, throwing clumps of black and grey fur off his body as claws dig into flesh. Now having Belial where he wants him, Cronn sprints back to the rope and raises his ax, ready to strike. Angry, thundering footsteps sound out behind him, where Belial continues to make attempts at dislodging the arrow. Then, as Cronn drops his ax onto the soaked rope, he feels the wind get knocked out of him and his feet lift off the ground. A bare tail with fur tufts at the end collides with him. Cracking his head off a bench as he falls back to Earth, Cronn is left blind and struggling to catch his breath. All that can be determined from where he sits, is that Belial's motions are haphazardly coming nearer. Each vibration is stronger than the last, and his vision is only just beginning to recover. Blotches of black and white splatter the area around him, making it so that nothing is yet distinguishable. Looking about himself as best he can, he searches for the glow of a flame; His ax. Once the blurred light is spotted, he frantically crawls towards it. Rocks, chalices, and other small items clink and clatter around him as he tries to get out from under Belial, who continues to wail and claw at the arrow. A mess of soaked, matted fur covers where the arrow remains. Exposing just how much damage Belial has done to himself with each attempt.
"I must stop her. I MUST stop her! I MUST STOP HER!" Belial tears the arrow free and slams it down, snapping it in two. Growling and panting, he looks about his surroundings using only the human eye, as the beastly one does not seem to shift about so freely. Spotting Cronn, who stands in the corner, ax in hand, he lets out a grumble and hunkers down, ready to pounce at any moment.
With weak knees and shuddering gasps, Cronn stares at Belial. His blurred vision showing only an outline of the corrupt man he once knew. He watches carefully as it nears him at a snail's pace, but he knows he won't give Belial the chance. Winding the ax back with its handle still extended, he allows it to connect with the rope. Then, launches it forwards. As it spirals across the room, angled at Belial, Cronn feels a sense of satisfaction; Being confident that Belial did not see the fuse being lit. Taking advantage of the distracted state Belial remains in, Cronn sprints out of the great hall. His knees still weak and head throbbing from his previous fall, he peeks in from behind an archway. Just in time to see Belial swat the ax away and let out a roar.
Four almost simultaneous explosions interrupt the final bellow, greatly countering the initial sound. Noticing this, Belial jerks his head towards the pillars, where each base is engulfed in a fiery ball of gunpowder. Attempting an escape he rushes towards Cronn, but it's already too late. A stray piece of broken stone from one of the columns collides with Belial's front right elbow, buckling it inwards and forcing him to the ground. As he skids across the cold flooring, all of the columns give way, followed by the roof they had been supporting. Cronn watches as Belial looks towards the crumbling structure overhead, attempting to stop the blow with his broken arm to no avail. With a high-pitched cry, Belial's muscles become tense under the weight of the building before he lets his head fall limp. Each breath that follows the collapse is more shallow than the last, as the constriction keeps him from filling his lungs any further.
Cronn, seeing Belial's weakened state, cautiously edges his way back into the room, nearing the trapped beast. As he gets within an arm's length of Belial, he feels hot breath hitting his legs and once again, makes eye contact with the malformed creature. Belial attempts to reach out for Cronn, finding that not only can he not lift his arm, but Cronn steps back the moment he makes the effort. Accepting his defeat, Belial's aggression begins turning into remorse. Cronn watches a tear form in the beast's eye and allows himself a moment with his guard down.
"Cronn... I'm so sorry. Please, understand. I never meant for it to come to this. Please, I beg you... forgive me."
Saying nothing, Cronn places his pistol against the half-man, half-beast's temple, but struggles to pull the trigger. Knowing that there is nothing he can do to save Belial- if there ever was something- once he does so. A gurgling breath tells him that Belial's lungs have begun filling with fluid, and yet, his speech remains clear.
"Free yourself of this place, Good Nostrum. The truest of beasts are not those you've come to know." Belial looks about the many figures that have begun to gather around him and his old friend, with a heavy eye that now lets tears fall freely. "They hide... behind the face of man."
With these final words, Belial closes his eyes and exhales for the last time, just as Cronn finds his stomach and pulls the trigger.
Cronn rests against a mattress in the infirmary, with three nurses tending to him. One scrubs at abrasions on his arms and legs with a warm, wet sponge, whilst another administers medication for his head. The third, who had assisted Briar and himself in finding Belial prior, replaces buckets of filthy solution with fresh ones at his feet and sorts out utensils on a small platter. Each of which is clearly designed for stitching up open wounds. He winces as the first nurse places a sponge against his cheek. The sting of alcohol against tender tissue remains persistent long after she moves on to another area. Cronn looks about the other beds, wondering why most remain empty in a time like this, but fearing the answer."Thank you, Cronn." The nurse at his feet says with a shy, uncertain smile."For what?""For saving us from what would have otherwise been certain death." The two nurses helping her nod in agreement. Each sharing in the small smile."There's no need for that." Cronn looks t
The low murmurs of thirty or so Purebloods and staff of The Keep travel through otherwise barren halls, as they gather at the front of the building. None, knowing of what to expect, but all feeling as though it is something that will surely be remembered. The chilly corridors keep them huddled close as they await the arrival of Achlys, whose whereabouts remain unknown for the time being. Yet, as soon as their sense of confusion has nearly reached its peak, Achlys and Cronn arrive at the front of the crowd. Standing on a stage that has been made from what tables remain intact. Achlys proceeds to silence them and clears her throat."On this night, we have suffered our greatest losses. We have been taken for granted, and shown that there are still beasts in this world that outmatch us on almost every level. I cannot stress to you all just how truly sorry I am that these things have befallen you all." Achlys holds a clenched fist over her heart as she speaks these words, pinching her eyes
Nimble fingers sift through budding flowers of white and red, plucking fava beans from their stems and placing them in wooden baskets. Leafy greens of many shapes and sizes await their turn to be harvested. Unbothered by winds which push about thin, yellow hairs of wheat just across the dirt road from themselves. Following the breeze's way comes a final wave of warmth from the sun as twilight sets in, casting its golden aura through still, overhead clouds. Pausing for a moment, one of those who picks at the crops stands upright and raises their nose to the passing gust. Taking in a deep and patient breath, she smiles. The cloth that binds her eyes restricts the gift of sight, but all that is to be touched and sniffed remains strong as ever. Now lowering her head once more, she places a pair of pods into her basket and sighs, feeling the light brushing of hardened fingers against her shoulder."That'll be enough for the night. We should return to the cottage.""Yes. Let's." Hael pulls
With a stomach full of assorted meats and vegetation, Yuler looks to the ceiling of her room. Dim rays of moonlight spill over her as they penetrate the thin veil her window curtains provide, reflecting only the dullest of blues onto the wooden beams overhead. She trails the length of each that can be seen. Stopping only when she has reached a corner of the room before proceeding to start on the next. No matter how many nights she has spent in this place, it has never begun to feel any more like a home than it had on the first. Blinking her eyes rapidly for a brief period, she rolls onto her side and peers out the window that sits level with her mattress.Nothing but rolling hills and rows of crops are to be seen for miles; especially under the night sky. This does not bother her, however. After all, it is the one thing she has found some ease in adjusting to. Nearly a year of trekking up and down The Keep's mountain was all it would take to appreciate such a sight.Pausing as she run
"If what you say is true," Marne begins, roughing up his brow as he does so, "then what does that mean for the end of this plague?""It is no plague." Hael sighs lightly and tips her head. "It is a curse. One that's name is not commonly spoken, as you must be aware. The true name is Mildew.""Mildew?" Marne chuckles for a brief moment and shifts between the faces of each other in the dining space. Then, looks back to Hael, whose expression is unwavering."Yes, Mildew. Dabria spreads it through the inhalation of its pollen. I'm sure you can understand how that may be a rather large issue... given how our environment functions.""Of course." Interjects Yuler with a nod of her head. "The pollen could be carried to just about any place at any time. A simple bee could transfer it to an entire hive of honey and we might not even know it until it's too late.""Precisely.""So, let it be true then." Marne crinkles his nose and sniffs sharply. Then, turns to face Lee specifically. "If Dabria's
Fumbling through her belongings, Yuler pulls free a pair of heavily stained boots. Alongside them she slings a leather bandolier with empty pockets and a rounded hat that leans harshly near the forward left portion of its brim. The wavy, ash grey material clashes well with the rest of her selected attire, which she hastily slips into. Seating herself against a worn out mattress she slips into one of the boots and begins fastening its buckled straps, when she hears the door to her room begin to creak. Choosing not to look away from her boot, she simply listens in on what they may be doing."I haven't seen you wear any of that since....""I had hoped to keep it that way.""What's got you resigning that mentality?"Yuler hears the dull clinking of glass against teeth, followed by the sloshing of liquid as a bottle in Lee's hand comes to rest against his hip. A subtle hint of disappointment crosses his eyes, but he does not speak on it. Instead, he steps further into the room, leans again
"Explain yourself!" Snaps Lee in a whisper. "You said we were done with all this nonsense and yet, here we are.""I am aware of what I said." Hael assures with a simple nod. "What I did not say is that there wouldn't be a little more of this work coming our way.""You fooled me, is what you've done!" Lee flicks the reigns as he speaks, giving the horse a small dose of encouragement to continue on through the night."Oh, Lee. If it were so easy for me to fool you then it is not my trickery that is the issue here." Hael giggles out of pity and shakes her head before continuing to speak. "This is the moment we have been waiting for. For so many years we have tried to get to this point and finally, it is upon us!""At what cost? Hm?" Lee glares at Hael from the corner of his eye in an attempt to keep focused on the road ahead. "I could have understood this only a few seasons ago, but now?""The farm will still be there when we return. There is no cost-""The cost is the risk, Hael! What w
Enervated eyes peer through expanding flames as logs turn to ember and ash. Acceptance of changing schedules is all but lacking as the four who possess them think over their future endeavors throughout the coming nights. With their horse stopping the wagon on its own and neighing back at them over the threat ahead, Lee tosses himself off the bench and pats at the creature's mane, cooing and shushing in a low voice."Not a thing in this world will get us moving through that." He informs, keeping a hand against the black coat as he continues petting. "We'll have to find another way around if we intend to make progress any time soon.""Any idea as to what might be the source of all this?" Marne steps off the wagon himself and joins Lee at the front, with Hael and Yuler following close behind."It's an unfortunately common occurrence in these parts." Hael shakes her head with disgust as the scent of singed bark trails towards her nostrils. "I've never known it to burn this close to an est