"Light the fuse! Light the blasted fuse, will 'ya!"
Behind him was ... movement. Smooth, fluid movement, always in shadow. Always in pursuit.
-continued inside-
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A collection of quick-to-read flash fiction stor...
Krugg snorted. He hadn't joined the dwarven Rangers for this. Real Rangers got to patrol the outskirts, maybe even fight Beasts. No Beasts ever came close to the Barricades, not in ages. Guard duty on the Frontier Barricades was always a dreary task. Frigid winds and featureless snowy plains made for shifts that felt longer than they were. Every Raider preferred the dangerous outskirts over this dullness.
In the snow outside the Barricades' walls, a Stalker Beast had been watching Krugg his entire shift. Powerful in the Elements, the Stalker could move undetected under the nose of any dwarf.
It was soon time.
The swarm would move in on command from their Beastmaster, and the Stalkers that formed the vanguard would already have silenced the dwarven guards.
"This is laughable," Krugg grunted, no one around to take note of his complaints. "We could at least have been given a stool to sit on. And some hot soup!"
Boldened by the lack of protest from his absent audience, he carried on. "My lips are numb. Some soup to warm them would be the least–"
The six-limbed Stalker shed its Cloaking Spell—and Krugg saw.
"What in the ..." Krugg muttered, hefting the alarm lever in one hand and his axe in the other. Unable to decide between reporting or attacking, he did neither.
Perched on the battlement in front of him, a shadowy form solidified as the visual Cloaking wore off. The scent became apparent before the diseased, cracked skin did.
It was a Beast, to be sure!
"Die, you elf-fuc–"
Before Krugg could finish either axe swing or insult, the Beast twirled atop its rocky perch. A sinewy, strong tail sliced the air, bone outgrowths forming jagged, dagger-like plates. The only white part on the black Beast, the bone blades cut across Krugg's neck with a slick sound. Krugg froze mid-swing, then let his axe fall to the frozen ground. His head followed suit, rolling over the rocks—and only then, his body slumped over.
The Beast slithered back over the edge of the battlement. It had carried out its task, now the ground was prepared for the swarm to follow.
The onslaught was imminent.
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This flash fiction story is connected to Spectrum Saga — Sanguine II: Carmine Storm
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