A Gnoment in Time, Part 9
Log Info
- Title: A Gnoment in Time, Part 9
- Emitter: Whirlpool
- Characters: Ravenstongue, Skielstregar, Paenitia, Dirk, Vaera, Lyme
- Place: Alexandros Wilderness, the Fernwood
- Time: Thursday, November 10, 2022, 9:56 PM
- Summary: The adventurers attempt to escape the Felwood. A flock of dark ravens descends, harrying them, pecking, attempting to steal Pothy away from Cor'lana. Their presence fills all with angry, malevolent feelings they struggle with in their own way. It is only Ravenstongue's great defiance and threats which finally drive the murder away. Though they do not go far, and their evil influence lingers and can be felt. What can't be felt is the curse of the Felwood. The particular spot the expedition finds itself in seems clear, purified. This will only attract worse things, and reprisals, and three of the party are still blind. They make their escape, Skielstregar leading Ramirez, who carries Paenitia, a mini-Lyme, and later Farland. They get free of the woods but there are sounds of pursuit. Invisible pursuit.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Ravenstongue 5'0" 99 Lb Half-Elf Female Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair. Skielstregar 7'2" 330 Lb Sith-Makar Male A brilliantly silver scale with fangs and empty eyes. Paenitia 3'0" 34 Lb Halfling Female A Lucht knight, dark skinned in bold feathery finery. Dirk 4'11" 295 Lb Mountain Dwarf Male A rugged old dwarf, dressed for the outdoors. Vaera 7'0" 262 Lb Sith-Makar Female A tall, dark red Makari with a metallic leg. Lyme 7'2" 435 Lb Orc Butch Black-skinned oruch of suitable stature -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Far Guard -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Zyla 7'5" 310 Lb Giantborn Female Massive woman in simple clothing and robes. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= NPCs of Note =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Farland Gnome Male Associate of Griva, Resurrectionist, Wizard -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Whirlpool Otyugh I am stinky! -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
Previously
Cor'lana and Farland make geomancy adjustments to the area, while Paenitia, Vaera, Skielstregar and Lyme stand guard. Something forces vile corruption into a nearby treant, and it awakens. As Cor'lana taps into her Fey heritage to speak with the tree, Paenitia charges with her lance, and Vaera blows it apart. The battle is over before it started. Farland is in shock, staring at the ground, saying it is a dead zone. A flash of light blinds Paenitia and Lyme with horrific visions. Ramirez must be led away.
So ...out they go. It's not easy, trying to get out of a twisty and dark misty forest when two members of the party and one steed were blinded by a horrible light.
Farland doesn't dare try to use more magic to expedite it, himself. Teleport would be lovely about now, but it's not worth the risk, is it?
Still, nothing seems to be happening and then ... fluttering. Soft fluttering in the distance. Birds watching from the trees, now, dozens of them. Showing up. Stalking. Black birds, opposed to Pothy's whiteness. But their eyes are blacker than their feathers.
Perhaps they are thinking 'SNACKS!' -- because as as a one, the flock descends.
Now
Birds? Birds. Cor'lana looks totally at peace with the concept of fluttering dark-feathered beings--until they begin to descend.
"Shit shit shit shit shit shit! Please don't harm us, kin of dark feathers! We are only passing through!" she pleads for her life... and with a great reluctance to hurt these birds. <Sylvan>
Pothy, however, glares. He croaks his own raven rejoinder. Cor'lana is /his/ snack provider! Shove off, you rascally ravens!
Skiel cranes his head up, scaled brow rising at the sight of the strange birds forming above them. "Uhhh..." a side glance to the local raven lorekeeper. They're freaking out. Probably not a good sign, especially when one can't catch a lick of what is being frantically pleaded.
With Rameriez's reins in one hand as to lead the blind trio of Lyme, Pae, and handsome Rameriez, the other holding Malefic, the shiny makari steps forward some. "Sssadly, we cannot take chances with thesssse thingssss," he grumbles, tired, but he inhales deeply. Holding his breath for a blast of frigid, draconic air for when they draw close.
Dirk looks up as the ravens start circling, and his eyes get wide. "Beards o' me fathers! Those those aren't -friendly- ravens, are they?" he asks, gripping his thunderbelcher. Lulu flutters her wings, stretching up into her tall, skinny vampirowl shape. From the venomous hiss and click-clack of her beak, she too seems to find the ravens' presence unwholesome. "Hoo! Hoo-oo!" Translated from Owlish, that would be 'Pothy friend, you're not Pothy! Fly off!'
"Ah, they come to peck our eyes. I hear the stories of this." Paenitia says, sounding resigned. There is little cheer in her voice. She bangs her two shields together, but otherwise remains seated and does little. "Find straps on the saddle and buckle in, Lyme, in case brave Ramirez try the dance of the blind."
Ramirez caws a low and threatening 'ruaaaaaaah'. He hears the other birds. He can do nothing.
Vaera is patiently guiding the blind bird horse, something that takes a much more hurried pace as the air becomes filled with the sounds of birds in the air.
"I am not staying put to find out what has that many birds riled up, especially if it is us, which it may very well be." The red makari chuffs. "Stay close, I'll keep as clear a path as I can manage. I don't believe we are properly equipped to drive them off."
They descend on you en masse, a dozen -- no several dozen. A hundred. Their beaks slash at you, their talons graze. It's a swirling whirlwind of black feathers. Attacking. The entreaties, they clearly do not care for. Their eyes are a different, malevolent shade of red, where they're not simply pits of darkness.
Farland screams and does his best to ward them off. His own magical defenses do seem to do a fair job of protecting him from the worst of it.
<OOC> Skielstregar was going to blast em with draconic breath, "30' cone, cold, DC 18 reflex for half off" GAME: Skielstregar rolls 3d6: (10): 10 <OOC> Whirlpool says, "Doesn't have much impact!"
Skielstregar is ready! He's done this before! Flash freeze a whole slew of enemies! The silver in him would be proud! Defend your friends! "Obssserve!"
His maw opens, bringing with it a veritable blast of sub-zero air and wind that coats the ground! Stings the air! And turns the ravens into popsi-
"Wait wha- aaaaaaaaaaAAA-!"
It's not very effective...
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Intimidate: (17)+19: 36
Cor'lana endures this whirlwind of talons and beaks. Suddenly she realizes why they call a group of ravens an unkindness, and her grimace turns more and more foul (fowl?) by the second--
And then Pothy cries out as one demonic raven strikes him. There's a sudden anger that brims in the sorceress's violet eyes, and she screams out: "ENOUGH! I am the child of the Feathered One! Fall away before I rip all of your wings from your forms!" <Sylvan>
Paenitia hunches down, lowering her shields to either side of Ramirez, protecting his head and neck. "Crouch to my back Lyme." She orders. Already small of stature, she makes herself as tiny a ball as she can and relies on her unbreakable armour to stave off the worst of it. Her shields ring as she bounces beaks that are snapping for her trusty mount, who must rely on softer armour, and thick feathers to keep himself safe.
Dirk claps a hand over his tricorne and ducks down. "GAH! LEAVE OFF!" he thunders as beaks and talons peck and slash at his leathery hide. Lulu hop-hops along his shoulder, ducking and weaving to keep from getting her feathers plucked. She gives the ravens another mean-spirited hiss, snapping her beak at any who dive too close. "Cor'lana?! Are we shootin' these fuckin' things?!" he calls over in a strangled tone.
Be it the threats of violence, the cold breath, or Raventongue's command, the birds do break off after a painful, aggravating moment. They tear into the sky, their shapes merging, coalescing into darkness before *exploding* outwards in a flash of power and hate.
You can feel it. The hate. It burns through you.
Vaera keeps pushing through the forest, keeping in front of the hippogryph since they still had eyes to react to any hazards. They don't stop as the birds vanish, but they do turn their head back to see them vanish for a moment.
"Well, it seems they are less corporeal than their talons made them feel." Vaera chuffs. "There is no time for theorizing however, we need to keep moving. The sooner we are out of these magic warped forests, the better."
Skiel does his best to defend from the swarm of dread ravens. Thankfully his scales lend to most of the shielding, nothing more than scratches and scrapes. But they sting. Stinging like... how utterly useless that frost was. There's a low growl as there's reprieve, Skielstregar looking up to watch the swarm explode away.
The makari's halberd slowly leans over to tap against the side of Skiel's skull. He huffs in annoyance. "Of course we need to keep moving," he rumbles snidely. "Thiss one tired of ssstupid birdsss and fey thingsss."
With a scowl, he's gathering his things to press forward.
Anger gives way to something darker in Cor'lana's eyes as the unkindness of ravens converges into the burst of *hatred* that spears through her. She cries out and stumbles a little in place, her hands going to her face, where hot tears flow through the cracks between her fingers.
There's a quiet whimper that comes from her--but only one sound. She tears her hands away from her face, her violet eyes still wet from her angered anguish. She shoots a look at Skielstregar's direction with the remark--as does Pothy--but she just looks down to her hands...
And she walks with the group, an occasional sniffle leaving her.
The Red Knight dares raise her head, blindly she turns her smiling visor to face Skielstregar, "Friend Dragon, they are gone? Or they muster for the next attack?"
She felt the vile wave of feeling blast through her, many sensations and emotions have buffeted the little lucht, she holds tight to her saddle. "We get through this Ramirez."
They aren't visible, but the feeling of enmity remains.
Farland sinks down to a knee, groaning. "That was ... that was notr okay." He's a bit bloodied. The ravens didn't really harm you, overlymuch. Some scratches, but a bunch of adventurers has endured far, *far* worse.
"... can you feel it?" He must not mean the hate. Everyone feels that, but something else.
"It's ... gone." HE glances towards Cor'lana, seeking her confirmation.
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Spellcraft: (14)+14: 28 GAME: Skielstregar rolls spellcraft: (16)+6: 22 GAME: Vaera rolls spellcraft: (10)+8: 18 GAME: Dirk rolls Spellcraft: (7)+5: 12
"No Farland, I do not feel the many things. This is why I have the adamantine thick heavy plate armour. The world is far away." Paenita explains, laughing, "you will to tell us the thing that is gone that is also the thing we do not see."
Cor'lana's eyes widen. She pants hard as she looks around. The tears leaking those violet eyes are still there--but they slow as she turns to Farland.
"The curse," she says. "These are cursed woods. But... The curse is gone /here/. This spot we're all standing in? It's not cursed anymore. The rest of these godsforsaken woods are cursed, but not /here/."
There's a wonder in her face now. "Were... Were these woods cursed with some sort of divine hatred?" she asks aloud.
"I can not say for certain." Vaera offers. "The birds flew back a moment ago and vanished, but there is still something odd in the air, something that may be linked to them, the forest, the birds, or something controlling them." Vaera chuffs. "I am well aware we need to keep moving, but as you can see-"
Vaera gestures to Farland on their knees. "Whether or not the curse is gone here, we are still surrounded by hostile woods that have recently tried to attack us, with some of us injured and three still blinded, so I am trying to make it clear we need to keep moving."
Dirk stares all around, softly panting for breath as the ravenstorm abates. "Curse? Bah! I cannae shoot a -curse-!" he grumbles. Lulu relaxes back into her soft, plump little owl shape, turning and hoo-hooting at her master. He looks over at her and grunts. "No, I dinnae think -you- can shoot a curse either, lass." He looks up and around. "So... if -this- part isn't cursed anymore... why is that? Did summat come along an'... I dunno... wash it away? Wash it clean, somehow? Like a magicked mop an' broom, like in that one fairy tale?"
Skielstregar shakes his head. "It'sss gone. The birdsss," he rumbles with a bit of frustration, that he couldn't extract satisfaction from them, to Paenitia for her question.
He turns his head towards Cor'lana and Pothy. Meeting their look. Dead gaze stares on at them. Malefic taps his skull again with a quiet >clink<.
"... grrr... what curssse?" he rumbles, cutting a glare to the weapon. "The weird magicssss curse? If that isss the case then ussse magicsss to get usss out, Farland. If not, it doesssn't egg-sssucking matter. We walk one way, fey woodsss do their absssurd fey bullshit no matter what."
"If we broke the curse here, the forest will know," is what Farland says.
"... I think we need to go. If the magical curse of the Felwood itself has become unstable, we're in grave danger."
He points east.
"...let's go. Fast. Now. NOW NOW NOW."
Well, that's all Cor'lana needs to go. "Let's move, Pothy," she tells him. She's not exactly keen on finding out what the forest will do to them. She has a Telamon to go home to!
Pothy seems to agree. He has snacks to go home to! "NOW NOW NOW," he says, mimicking Farland as Cor'lana books it eastward.
'Ruaaah!' Ramirez squawks
"No Ramirez, do not run with the blind eyes, we will find all the trees." Paenitia cautions, "follow Friend Dragon as fast as he goes. Lyme, you are to hold so you do not bounce onto the tail."
The little lucht turns her head towards a spot between Vaera and Skielstregar, "We are ready."
"Alright, so we do not stop, that is good to confirm." Vaera chuffs once, grabbing the lead and jogging off once everyone else was moving.
"Well why didn't you sssay that to ssstart...!" Skiel huffs at Farland, wrapping Rameriez's reins around his fist as he takes off at a brisk jog to lead the paladina and Lyme off with the others.
There's a panicked look in Cor'lana's eyes as she realizes something. Pothy on her shoulder seems to realize it, too. He croaks and burrows his face into Cor'lana's hair.
"I'm /not/ letting the flock take you," she says, tears flowing down her face again. "You're... You're all I have left of Mom, I can't--I /can't/--"
She scoops Pothy into her arms and holds him close to her heart as she continues to run, holding him tightly so that the flock can't take him away--can't take her little brother away, can't take her mother away.
Farland is breaking into a dead run. It's as fast as his little legs can take him. This is the best idea he has right now, which given that he's a wizard capable of a great many things that you've all seen, probably says something about the panic and urgency he's operating under.
The woods seem to be closing in all around you.
The hate clings to you, like you've stepped into a cobweb you can't get rid of.
"It will be alright if we focus." Vaera growls. "Focus, do not let your emotions cloud your thought, turn to something productive, such as what you can do to keep him safe, rather than empty affirmations."
With Skielstregar guiding the hippogryph, Vaera slows down to where Farland was. "Climb on, now, we will get out of here faster if we need not wait for you."
Hate. It's something close to Skielstregar, woven into another part of him that he tries his best to wrangle and subdue. The cobwebs cling easily to him, distracting him. But his halberd keeps up that little >clinking< against his head. "You're telling thisss one nothing, Malefic...!" he hisses at it, talons hitting the ground hard with every clanking jog. "If you coul-"
Vaera speaks. He scowls and scoffs, maw twitching around fangs. "Fine.
Still, he leads the trio of the blind. Part of him still sticking to his old duties.
"We shall sing the song, to encourage the fast movement, yes?" Paenitia says cheerfully, bouncing and clanking in the saddle.
- "Three blind mice,"
- "Three blind mice"
- "See how they run."
- "RUN RUN RUN!"
She breaks into giggles, a cruel counterpart to the suffering of some of her fellows, but laughter is the way she battles despair.
"Keep RUN my friends, we will see the other side. The only way is through."
Cor'lana's arms are still tight around Pothy. She's not giving him up to these woods of hatred. She's not giving up what she had that passed for a family as a child, back in that isolated home in a little village in Rune...
"I love you, I love you, I love you, Pothy," she murmurs to him. Maybe hate can be defeated with love. Paenitia's Tarien-joy is helping her, too.
Pothy shivers into Cor'lana's embrace, the bird not moving a feather. He whistles things that only she can hear and understand--his true voice telling her that he loves her too. That he's sorry, like it's his fault, like all of this is somehow his fault.
GAME: Vaera rolls survival: (12)+13: 25 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Survival: (19)+2: 21 GAME: Paenitia rolls survival: (14)+0: 14, "plus whatever penalties for blind" GAME: Skielstregar rolls survival: (14)+12: 26
The mists grow thick and choking again as you retreat from the corrupted glade you were in. A dead run, mounted or otherwise, is the best you can do, but hte forest is twisted, easy to lose your sense of direction here. Finally, though, you break free of the quickly encroaching darkness, managing to stay together and find yourself beyond the boundaries of the demonically corrupted woods, like passing through a barrier that wipes away the oppressive feeling of hate.
Once she passes through the borderlands of the woods and the feeling of hatred lifts away from her--the ethereal flock of birds tearing away from Pothy--Cor'lana falls to her knees once all is safe. She just quietly holds Pothy for a moment, bringing him up to her face for a long and close cuddle--his fluffy head against her forehead, his beak against her nose.
"Thank you for holding on," she manages to warble out after a moment. "I tried to protect you. I..."
She swallows. "I protected you. Like a big sister should." And she just continues to hold Pothy.
"Ah, I feel the plunge, like into the cold stream. The twisted heart as slip away, the fist unclench, we are free of the Felwood?" Paenitia asks, her head turning slightly to one side then the other. Even Ramirez has a lighter step, although his head doesn't stray from the direction of the reins.
Lyme does, indeed, hold on, vision not returning quickly. His fingers wind tight into Ramirez' feathers, as he screws up his courage against the helplessness of sudden blindness and the virulence of hatred. He hunkers low, as if expecting a blow to land across his shoulders... ...but it never comes. After they pass through the barrier, he straightens a little, experimentally, though he's aware that sooner or later the shrinking magic will wear off. He blinks his eyes, willing his vision to return.
Skiel runs. His complaining maw shut, yet the nasty parts of him gnaw at his brain to make more quips and express frustration, anger. Hatred. His weapon ceased its clanking. Instead, opting to point in a direction as they went. It seemed useless at first, but it helped keep a steady heading. Was it pointing the way? Skiel didn't know. Didn't care. Everything was just getting him really pi-
Then they pass through the unseen boundaries of the cursed wood. All those feelings become squashed. Reined in. And instead, he turns to the group with wide, sad eyes. "... thisss one didn't mean to be rude..." he says quietly.
He watches Cor'lana hug Pothy protectively, an empathetic frown playing on his features. Holding that for a bit before mentioning to Paenitia, "Yesss, we are out," in a rumble. "But we should not linger. Come, Ssshamansss, ssstand tall and let usss render aid unto our blinded compatriotssss."
Farland, having accepted that offer of a ride, looks deeply shaken. He's not thrilled.
"...two things," he says rather breathlessly, "it means we can break the curse on the Felwood, but we'll make whatever's left of it really angry when we do, and two, magic has a problem that's only getting worse. Everything is changing again."
Vaera stops outside the the borders of the felwood, but not out of choice. She turns around, balancing Farland on her shoulders.
"It is alright, whatever wove those creatures to harry us clouded our emotions. " Vaera chuffs. "Skielstregar is correct, we need to keep moving still, the felwood is not confined completely, and we need not push our luck. We learned some valuable information, but it means little if we do not actually tell anyone or make good on it."
Cor'lana gets up to her feet once she gathers the strength to do so again. She dries the tears on her face with a hand, but she hasn't let go of Pothy yet in the other arm. He doesn't look like he's protesting that, either, as he shifts so that his beak is resting into the crook underneath her chin.
"We know more now than when we came here," she says resolutely. Her attention turns to Farland. "How do we proceed from here? Are we headed back home to Alexandria?"
"We have no eyes to flee. If Lulu or Pothy take the reins, they could be the eyes to fly Ramirez there. You would have the easier time without us." Paenitia says, "I hear the pain in your voices from what nearly happen, so I do not ask for that. It is too close to the cursed wood for the magic mansion refuge."
"I think it is as the Friend Dragons both say, all we have is to keep run at great speed."
>crick<
A sound from the forest. A small one. A single snap.
Skiel is about to have more to say with regards to Farland's revelations and the others' concern. But his head whips around towards the forest from the sound. "... thisss one thinksss we flee /away/ from the spooky woodssss..." he murmurs, taking a few steps away with Rameriez's leads in hand. Steps turn into walking, which turns into a light jog. "Come, come, we need to go. If we get far enough away, thisss one can ssssummon usss ridessss."
"Shit." Lyme heard that -- still blind, though, he straightens up and tries to keep the panic out of his voice. "Who was that?"
Cor'lana looks in that direction, too, and her arms go tightly around Pothy again as she sprints to keep up with Skielstregar. "I'm not going back in there. They tried to take Pothy from me," she decides out loud. "Let's go. Pothy, you are getting buried in snacks when we're home."
Nothing happens. A little time passes. Silence.
And then: .... *crack*.
"The noise that is stopping us leaving." Paenitia replies, leaning to pat Ramirez on the neck, "you are the most handsome. Be ready run when you are pull."
Farland clears his throat. "Let's see if we can't deal with this blindness, hm? I've got some water, let's splash it on your eyes..."
This will take a moment, but well, it might help.
"I am not sure what that sound is, I have no desire to find out at this current moment." Vaera offers once they are breaking into a run as well. "Please, no more stops until we are well and truly away from this place. I am sorry Ramirez, but you will need to carry a bit more for a moment." They add while lifting Farland up and depositing him on the hippogryph to see if the water would help any.
There's a cawhinny of acceptance as Farland's weight is added to Ramirez's back. Fortunately, he has a strong back, and the gnome is not a weighty weight. While roomy, it is still awkward to manipulate and maneuver on the bird-horse's back for something as delicate as pouring water over the eyes.
"Wash the Lyme first, I steady you, then we try Ramirez, so that Friend Dragon can free his hands." Paenitia suggests, as they bound along, "I take the last handfulls."
"I'd cast a quickening spell, but all things considered, I do /not/ want to mess with the magic around here right now," Cor'lana says. She looks uneasy as the group remains close to the Felwood, but moving away from it abates it, somewhat.
Skiel continues to lead the now three person blind Rameriez ride, him stowing one of his halberd onto his back so he can free it up. "Yesss, thisss one agreeesss with Ravensss. They do not want to messs with the magicsss here. Do the fixesss, Farland assss we go!"
GAME: Paenitia rolls perception: (20)+6: 26 GAME: Skielstregar rolls perception: (9)+13: 22 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Perception: (13)+4: 17 GAME: Vaera rolls perception: (7)+13: 20
... you can sense it, now. Something is following you. You can't see it yet. Perhaps it's invisible, like the creature was that night before? You're moving further away from the forest, and your eyuesight is clearing up thanks to time, water, and help, but ...
... something. Definitely following you.
"It better not be another of those invisible creatures.
Lyme, Ramirez, and finally Paenitia gets to wash her eyes with Farland's special water. In her case, it's as simple as filling the eye-cups of her goggles and then slamming them against her face visor.
A couple times is necessary.
As the water trickles down inside her armour, her sight starts to return. By her waist, she can see fuzzy forms, once her feet are wet and droplets are trickling out her sabatons, her vision has fully returned.
That strange sensation she's feeling, everyone might be feeling, she knows is not her imagination. "Something follow. It is there, no doubt, you have the fae fire or the invisibility purge? Or the big bag of flour, now is the time to use on the pursuer."
"It better not be another of those invisible creatures again." Vaera growls to no one in particular. "Well, we killed one before, or at least Skielstregar did. Are you sure no one has it out for you Farland? Because this is two in one day if that is the case."
<OOC> Ravenstongue says, "Whirl, cPerception to figure out where I can target the invisible creature with Glitterdust?" GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Perception: (13)+4: 17
"I mean, there are plenty of people that have it out for me," answers Farland, "But I don't think it's any of them."
Cor'lana makes a 'tch' noise of frustration as she casts a look at the environment. "I can't figure out where exactly it is, or I'd toss more of my glitter spell at it," she says. "But we /can't/ bring it back to the city."
GAME: Skielstregar casts See Invisibility. Caster Level: 9 DC: 14
Skielstregar tosses the reins up to Paenitia once she and the crew get their vision back, him grabbing his halberd once more. He makes a sort of... whining/concerned sound. "Ugh... thisss one /might/ be able to do ssssomething? Haven't practiced. But the magicsss here isss bad...!"
The others bring up good points... Screw it. "Hmpf! Fine!" A hand wreathes in black ichor, the palm smearing across both his his eyes, leaving with it a black stain. "Show yourself, coward...!" he growls.
Eyes pulse a dull, ethereal silver.
It chooses not to.
Whatever it is hovers just beyond visible reach a moment longer. Then a little longer...
And then ... a flood of shadow begins crawling across the ground towards you. Shadow itself, stretching out long fingers...
