BBUG ... Big Bad Undead Guy

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 ...

Oh my aching tail ...

 Bright Spark's crossing was awkward and painful, in a way it had never been before. It could no more understand why it was experiencing pain than it could comprehend the quirk of temporal mechanics that had been allowing it to cross from one realm to the other in the first place. But it did know pain and this was unlike anything it had experienced before. Not the worst pain even, that would have had to be the time its tail had been stepped on by the large, stinky, hard footed thing that pulled the wagon for the locals hereabouts. No, this was an odd kind of electrical current that wrapped itself around, over and through its own energetic signature as it made the passage from incorporeal to a very much solid bundle of toned muscles moving beneath a healthy coat and plumage. 

It landed amid the barrels in the storeroom with a heavy thud, in a tangle of arms, legs, torso and tail. It skidded across the floor, bowling over the stout oaken casks with the momentum of its arrival in its natal space and sending them spinning. Lying prone for several long minutes, Spark strove to untangle itself and shake off the lingering ache that centered on a spot far deep within its breast as it struggled to breathe. Air was proving difficult to draw for the winded creature and it spent its next several moments struggling to simply coordinate the acts of inhaling and exhaling until it stopped feeling like an imaginary wagon-beast was sitting on it's chest and the nauseating vertigo and ringing in its ears began to ease. Almost immediately as it was finding the rhythm that ought to have been natural to it, the coughing fit began. 

After several more rather unpleasant minutes spent in clearing frothy phlegm from its airway, it heaved a great sigh and took its first deep cleansing breath, followed by another and then yet another. Allowing itself to relax fully and simply lay still for a moment, it took stock of its situation before trying yet again to win free from its tangled landing to successfully sort out its own appendages. Shakily at first, with diffuse pain lingering in its bones, it gained in confidence and sureness of its footing. Staggering forward a few paces, Spark finally managed to shake off the majority of the remaining disorientation and made its way clear of the cluttered space and out into the next chamber over ... ignoring, as it did so, the pained groan that floated up behind it from where it had landed so ungracefully.

 The scent trail of the dark things was much stronger here than it had been on the other side. A composite and cloying odour, it burst upon Spark's olfactory senses unpleasantly carrying with it the unmistakable aroma of putrefying flesh and death decayed. It's growl was no longer high frequency and sparking, now it manifest as a deep rumbling and angry sound which echoed and reverberated within its ribcage with each breath drawn. Its tail lashed angrily from side to side and its wings, as tightly folded as ever to its sides, hummed ominously as minuscule muscular contractions in its still under developed flight muscles caused the large, membranous, and heavily veined wings to vibrate rapidly against its flanks. While looking fragile and delicate, strongly reminiscent of the wings of a dragonfly, these were in fact remarkably strong and sharp edged. Their purpose in the species was not simply for ritual display in breeding but would be, should Spark succeed in attaining its full adult size, an active part of the little predator's defenses.

It craned its neck and tested the air with a quickly darting tongue, investigating the currents for all the information carried by each errant breeze that gusted by. The growl got louder and more determined as it began to pick out the scent of living beings amid the corruption. Spark oriented itself upon the smell of live flesh and sets cautiously out to track its way to the source. 

~Ams protek ...

It growled angrily to itself as it loped across the room and scaled one of the roof support columns to silently avail itself of the intricate network of ceiling beams, joists, and rafters which allowed a small enough one to travel from one end of the brewery, the Inn and the Tavern portions of the high walled building. It had learned early on in its tenure within the complex structure that the resident creatures rarely looked upwards and the shadows pooled sufficiently in the open ceiling space to allow a cautious one to travel from one end to the other relatively unimpeded. A quick and easy hop was all Spark needed to cross from the brewery to the Inn's portion of the ceiling. With the practiced ease of one grown comfortable with its ability to avoid the locals, it scrabbled quietly up one beam, across a rafter and down a column in a circular spiral and onto the floor not more than a stones' throw from the large, double reinforced doors to the walled courtyard all without breaking cover. 

Flattening itself into the shadows on the floor behind the pillar it had descended, it made itself as small as it could as to avoid notice. A task made suddenly tougher by the fact that Spark was now almost double the size it had been the last time it had spent time this side. Still, it was not too difficult to go unnoticed by the residents and their paying guests considering the chaos unfolding before its eyes. 

Mine!

 Weaver wasn't at all certain what was riling up the bright energy that had become a fixture in the Guild over the last little while. But riled it definitely was … prowling the shop unhappily and shooting static sparks off anyone it bumped against as it did so. She could tell who was energetically sensitive by how they reacted when the mild electrical zap came. 

The ones with more than mundane skill sets tended to look about curiously for the source of the energy jolt, usually as a result of having had it distractedly brush up against them and inadvertently captured a stray electron or two from each. The truly clueless who navigate their lives deaf, blind and dumb to the wonders that were possible, simply startled and then settled back into their humdrum lives with barely a ripple to their days. 

Each pass around the shop, Spark grew more irritated … it’s energy signature becoming both wilder and stronger. It’s incorporeal tail lashed angrily and it’s nonexistent whiskers vibrated with the power of absolute outrage. A scent trail, very faint but distinct, was triggering a memory of fell things in the night from when it had been very small and newly fledged.  Dark and dangerous things belonged to that scent, things which rendered hunting grounds unsafe for small things … if the scent was there, then they would be near as well.

It did not like the thought of THIS hunting ground being made unsafe. 

~ Ams protek 

Never before had bright Spark felt the need to stake a territory for itself. Opportunistic hunters and scavengers, it’s kind on that side were required by the scarcity of prey to maintain a fairly nomadic lives. A new emotion to any it had experienced previously stirred in its thoughts. This was ITS hunting ground and, while the mud things that existed here could neither harm nor help it, they were a fertile source of creative energy. It had grown stronger while it had been feeding here, chasing down the echoes of imagination that lingered after groups of the slow things spent time in camaraderie.

~ Ams defen

A low, electrical buzzing filled the Guild as Spark began to growl. Starting its third circuit around the larger space of the shop proper, it kept its focus upon the doorway into the Parlour from which the scent trail emanated. Dropping into a low crouch, it began a cautious predatory approach which started as a tentative tiptoeing and shifted to a determined run towards the doorway. Having crossed the place where the scents changed and the air sparked a few times now, it knew that its best chance lay in gaining speed quickly so that it could punch cleanly through the Veil. 

It didn’t count on Weaver crossing the threshold, exiting the Parlour at the instant it crossed to enter. In that moment, for no more than the length of a very human heartbeat, their energies merged and both cried out in shock at the less than subtle connection. 

Then it was past, leaving the woman on her knees gasping and trying to understand what had just happened. Climbing unsteadily to her feet, she turned to look back into the Parlour in obvious confusion but no answers presented themselves. Shivering uncontrollably, she shook her head to acknowledge the strangeness of what had just happened and wandered off in search of a cup of tea with which to steady herself.