With a wall of flames roaring only a few hundred feet behind them, they idly watch what lays up ahead. Red mist forms in small puffs, being pushed outwards like blood on water, as something near the center stirs it about. A metallic instrument rises above the cloud, then falls and vibrates in the midst of it all, creating yet another puff. With each, the illuminated face of a Kneller gazes back at them through soulless, unblinking eyes. The men notice her curious posture almost immediately upon seeing her; Hunkered forward with labored breathing, she continues to ring the bell in an almost impatient manner. Her bony knuckles knock together with the force she continues to ring with, causing each chime to be even louder than the previous. Realizing the threat this poses to them, the men attempt to catch their breath as quickly as possible, eager to engage. Once the burning in his chest has subsided, Belial is the first to step forward. Gripping tightly at the handle of his cleaver, he bolts ahead of the others, who have begun advancing, too. Once Briar has caught up, he takes another look at The Kneller's face, which he could now swear... is grinning at them. This strange expression puts him on high alert. Never, in all the time he has come across these women, has one reacted in such a way. Allowing himself to fall back a few feet, he begins looking towards the nearby treeline. Searching for anything that seems out of place as Cronn surpasses him. Before he even has the time to finish surveying, he hears the grinding of serrated edges against bone, and the woman lets out a pained cry. One look towards the others and it is clear that Belial has taken it upon himself to be the one who kills The Kneller.
"Something's not right here." He states, mostly to himself. Watching Belial sink the cleaver deep into The Kneller's chest cavity for a third time before ripping it free, he hears the bell continue to chime in the woman's deathly grip as she is dragged across the ground. All other sounds seem to vanish for a moment as he focuses in on the instrument, now noticing something about its resonance. As the bell jerks right, the sound is fairly normal, but as it jerks left, something seems to muffle it. "Wait." As the body falls limp, Belial reaches out and snatches the bell from its twitching fingers, allowing it to clink about a few more times before he grips the clapper inside. "Wait!" With a single pull, the clapper comes free, but Belial's victorious smile quickly turns to a look of confusion. Briar moves towards them with haste, seeing that Cronn is not yet aware of what has happened, as he is still prying his ax from The Kneller's severed throat. "Belial, cover your nose! COVER YOUR NOSE!" Giving Briar only the briefest of glances, he uncurls his fingers and looks into his palm.
Clumps of pulverized fungi break away from the clapper and roll about in his hand as he begins to recognize what it is. As realization sets in, the feeling of doom washes over him.
"Not here, not yet!" Plugging his nostrils with a free hand, he tosses the clapper away. Not knowing what to do with the other, he simply holds it out as far away from his body as he can. Almost immediately, Cronn pulls the mask from his own face and tightly bounds the contaminated hand. Whilst Briar sifts through the woman's pockets. Attempting to locate the cloth that would have encased the fungi prior to them encountering it.
"Where is it? Where is it!?" Throwing a full fist into each blood-stained pocket, he aggressively seeks after the fabric, but to no avail. "Belial, look at me!" With the squinting man now facing him and going blue in the face from lack of oxygen as the aroma stings his eyes, Briar picks up the crossbow he had dropped on the ground during his search and points towards the plate of flint that had been built into it, right behind the bowstring. With Belial looking towards what he is pointing at and then back at him, Briar explains, with deep regret in his voice, what they must do next. "We have to burn it." Belial shakes his head aggressively and attempts to pull away from Cronn, but the grip is far too strong and his anchored feet keep him steady under Belial's struggling. "It's the only way, I'm sorry." Pulling the bottle of pungent alcohol from Belial's belt, Briar begins pouring it over the mask that snares Belial's fist. Then, with it completely soaked, he pulls an arrow from his quiver and plants its head against the flint.
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Nostrum: Tales of Valor
Werewolf*Completed Story* In the heart of an Old World that has been filled to the brim with unimaginable horrors, one of humanity's final forces has founded itself. Yet, the glory days are long gone. With only the guidance of those who have come before the...
