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Mature Content

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Mature Content

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Mature Content

It was an odd sight.

The wagons had been placed in a classic defensive circle, with the horses mules and people inside, but there were no fires within the circle. Outside the circle however, all around the camp, fires had been lit. They illuminated the surroundings, making it virtually impossible for anybody to approach the wagons without being noticed. The camp itself was dark, giving cover to those who dwelt there.

The Werewolves that they knew where marauding the region probably could see very well in the dark anyway, but the Knight commanding the small caravan of raged survivors, supplies and refugees hoped the other servants of the Demons were not so fortunate.

Shortly after midnight, even non Elven ears could hear the trampling of many feet and paws, coming from several directions.

The knights unsheathed their swords and the grey elven refugees readied their bows. In a tense and grim silence, they stared at the fires, waiting for the hated creatures to come in sight. Suddenly, they could hear howling, but it was much deeper and more menacing than a normal wolf’s.

“Werewolf!” the captain Knight hissed. “Get ready! It can start any second now!”

Other Werewolves, all around the camp howled in reply. There was a short and unexpected silence, followed by growling and snapping and shouting in rough and barbarian languages of the Demon Servers...

“What the fuck is going on?” one of the knights snapped. “Why don’t they attack already? Are they trying to intimidate us?”

“That must be their war cries,” an armed woman whispered.

“It doesn’t sound like war cries,” the Captain mused, as he slowly climbed over the barricade, trying to get a better look at the forces of the demons that where beyond the fires . “It sounds more like … they are … bickering?”

“They’re having an argument?” the woman gasped.

“Probably about how they will divide our bones,” the annoyed Knight growled.

“I don’t think so … Wait! What’s that?” the Captain gasped.

It was then, when he saw Death... and Death stared into his eyes... before turning back.

There was another short series of barking sounds. Everything fell silent for a few seconds, then the sound of thundering paws and running feet suddenly resumed. the Captain, and with him, dozens of others, raised his weapon. They could see shadows flashing along the edges of the light circles of the fire. But none of them actually entered the light or charged towards the wagons. The sound continued for a full minute, then it started to die away until it was gone. the Knights exchanged a confused look, while others peeked higher over the barricades. 

“What is this?” the leader of the Grey Elven refugees asked in wonder. “Have they … left?”

Still with his weapon ready, looking trying to look to the darkness beyond the fires, the Captain replied. “Sounds like it.”

“I don’t trust it,” an elven archer shouted from the other side of the circle of wagons. “This is some kind of trap, I’m telling you.”

“But how? I don’t see … Wait, be quiet, all of you!” the Grey elven leader hissed.

“What …?”

At first they heard nothing, but then, faintly, they could make out a rushing sound, coming from above their heads. It quickly got louder.... they looked at each other white in terror...

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What happens next? Read here!
Silas of Delgem - part 11

Drawing done for showing an interpretation of a moment of the story of Silas of Delgem. I did a couple of changes to his text... and put in front of Silas as the Black Deth Claw Silver Moon.

This was a birthday gift:

Happy Birthday Walt-Marsters!