Desperately, Jyslin and those of her family resilient enough to have withstood the horrors that had lumbered through the shattered street gate threw their weight against the Inn's iron reinforced, oak double doors. The youngest had stood no chance and had fled almost immediately when the gate had failed. The sobs and whimpers from where they huddled in booths, under tables and behind the bar with the non-combatants sounded loud in the unnatural silence that permeated the place. Misty whisplets of creeping fog curled their way inside under the door and pooled around the assorted lower appendages that one might expect in a family of Tieflings. Those fortunate enough to be shod in boots were spared the worst for the sensation of it crawling purposefully across hide or hoof was gooseflesh inducing nightmare fuel.
That the attack came soundlessly only intensified the sense of wrongness each person witnessing the event experienced. The doors rocked with such violence that the sturdy crossbar beam, well worn but stout nonetheless, creaked and bowed while those attempting to bar the way were momentarily pushed backwards several inches. Yelling instructions to rally her kinfolk, Jyslin sought to ignore the creeping sense of dread that was settling in her stomach as her hooves skidded against a flooring made slick by the penetrating moisture. She threw her weight back against the wood, scrabbling for leverage on the damp flagstones to brace the doors. Together they strove to hold back the inevitable ... that which was out there, was soon to be in here.
Rocked backwards again, almost a foot this time, the defenders found themselves dodging arm long splinters as the beam bent under a force beyond its capacity to resist. It yet held, barely, but had taken such damage that Jyslin doubted it had much more in it. One more blow from the lumbering monster in the courtyard and that which lurked in the fog would have access to the lives within. Almost as one they lurched forward yet again, more out of despair this time than from any sense that they might prevail. Those among the family and guests who held to a particular deity or other, sought solace in prayer on the off chance one of the Realm's assorted Higher Powers might be paying attention.
Alas, it did not seem that miraculous succor was in the script, for the doors exploded inward in a shower of splinters and a hail of broken pieces. The would be defenders themselves were thrown a goodly distance from the entrance by the force of the attack, scattered in a disarrayed arc on the floor. Before anyone could gather their wits and attempt to rise from the prone and prostrate positions they had landed in, IT lumbered in through the open threshold carrying both the cloying mists and a stomach turning stench with it as it came.
Few in range of the smell the thing gave off had stomachs or wills strong enough to control the immediate need to disgorge any contents their stomachs carried and IT's progress into the building went unimpeded. Wiping her mouth with the back of her left wrist, Jyslin cursed her luck to have landed directly in the creature's path. Still reeling from the hard landing, she lifted her eyes from floor to get her first good look at the thing and tried to scuttle backwards to give herself distance. A maneuver foiled by the placement of one of the roof support columns which she unexpectedly backed into.
Swallowing and schooling her features into an exaggerated grimace to try to prevent the waves of nausea from overpowering her at such close range, there still only being around 4 or so feet between herself and the hulking brute, Jyslin stared at the dead thing which yet moved with unconcealed revulsion. Easily eight foot tall, it had once been a Foawr. Of giant stock, it stood a statuesque nine feet tall and was correspondingly broad across both chest and shoulders. Despite its sturdy build, two features caused a jarring counterpoint to the symmetry of the rest of it ... the fact that its head, with its extravagant coiffe of long, thick hair was around two sizes too large for it's frame and the gaping hole in its ribcage that announced its undeath in an undeniable way.
Sightless eyes in a maggot ridden face swivelled to fix her with a stare that did more than suggest that the thing could tell the difference between the living and the inanimate. The latter were ignored as it moved steadily forward, while the nearest of the former ... being Jyslin's own self ... became the source it oriented itself on. Her back pressed firmly into the column behind her, the Tiefling tried to scramble out of the way but her limbs refused to obey and she stayed sitting where she was as it loomed over her. Watching the jerky, unjointed way in which it moved she could only watch in frozen horror while the mists it brought with it reached out to cross the space between the two. Coiling and wrapping itself about her legs, it moved in a manner reminiscent of a tidal flow and stole away her will.
*MOVE*, she screamed at herself silently while the shadows overhead shifted and sidled around the top of the column. The Foawr corpse raised one callused ham-fist noiselessly above Jyslin's head who instinctively cringed away from the expected blow. This was going to hurt, she held her breath.
A low, warning growl floated down from the ceiling ...
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