“ When the Inquisition was first formed, it was mainly to combat heretical cultists, demonic remnants, and the occasional rogue mage. However, during the interregnum between the Second and Third Dark Tides, the widespread malpractice of magic led to the creation of dedicated spell breakers to capture these rogue mages and hunting down small scale demonic incursions. Thus the Inquisition split into four branches to handle the changing landscape; the Witch Hunters, who dealt with cultists and heresy; the Templars, dedicated warriors trained to fight demons, police and combat mages; the Venatus, assassins and killers operating solely under Inquisitorial command; and the secretive Kryptarchs, the rumored elite of the Inquisition.” - Gallius Segosa ‘History of the Divine Church’ Chapter 5: The Inquisition


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    “Aghhh!” With a scream Sophie tore herself awake, a bright wispy light blinding her. For a brief moment she felt the pain subside, a dull ache all that remained of the horrific dream that she experienced. But her respite was over as quickly as it began, spears of pain shot through her body once more, muscles spasming and contracting as she regained consciousness. Why?! Am I still dreaming?!


    A rapid gasp of air finally pushed her over the edge and the light had blended into the darkness around her. Her labored breaths slowed as she tried making sense of her surroundings, a dull fog enveloped the land and a small bonfire up the area around her. Around her evidence of a battle lay strewn across the muddy ground, broken weapons, armor and human shaped imprints dotted the ground. What the hells?


    Pulling herself up she barely made it halfway when her leg gave way, sending her directly into the ground with a solid thud, knocking the wind out of her lungs. Defiant, she pushed herself back up and quickly found a nearby tree to lean on taking a moment as she assessed her situation. Where am I? What is this place? And saints above what happened? She partially blamed herself for not leaving the estate much in her capacity as Eva’s maid, but she was almost certain that she had not seen anything close to this much foliage anywhere nearby.


    “Ugh, my head.” She sighed deeply and gently massaged her temple, the pain barely suppressed but bearable. She was lost and stuck in the middle of nowhere, hurt, tired and suffering from a massive headache. Sophie glanced around one last time, seeing nothing immediately dangerous, she began piecing together the night’s events. Knocked out, prisoner, knocked out, now here. Has it really all been one night? She groaned as another small headache overtook her thoughts, growing ever so slightly more worried that suffering two hard knocks to the head might not exactly be good for her health.


    Her other senses too, began nipping for her attention. The night was cold, the treetops obscured the moonlight, the few transient rays that broke through further muddled by the dense fog. She could hardly see anything beyond an arms length without things getting covered up and decided it was too dangerous to roam around. The fire did provide a nice area to stay safe around, Sophie could feel the eyes of the forest watching her, waiting for their moment to drag their prey away.


    It was an unsettling fear that lingered at the back of her mind as she wandered around the fire. The odd shapes and shimmers that cut through the fog, the cracks and snaps as every minor noise froze Sophie on the spot. There was no room inside her mind for sadness or doubt any longer, only a mixture of fear and tension as the pain pricked at her sanity whilst her health continued to deteriorate.


    For her it was a frustrating feeling, being so unable to control her own fate. She didn’t know what to do nor did she know how she was going to get out of this. All she knew was that she needed to return to Eva. She could picture her now, fuming and furious, normally she contained her rage perfectly well particularly when her brothers teased her. But perhaps due to training or just from being an outlander, Sophie remembered watching once when Eva managed to beat the Knight Captain of the house guard to a pulp in a spar, and letting her loose was a scary thought.


    Still she ruffled her own hair to get her back on track, the more immediate problem was escaping but how? Ruffling around the area around the fire she made a horrifying discovery. The bonfire was the remains of the ‘cart’ she was transported in and the weapons, well they probably belonged to the guards. At the very least she knew this wasn’t a nightmare, Eva’s volume of Gunmar and Aurelia was just sitting half buried in the dirt when she found it, presumably taken by some cretin who perished soon after. On the other hand, amidst the discarded items she managed to find a spear that hadn’t yet been destroyed and could use it as a crutch as she explored the small lit area around her.


    A low droning drew her attention as guttural growls echoed far too close for comfort. Sophie turned around only to see two blurred shapes shuffling towards the fire.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Hand held tight on the spear, she slowly backed away until she found her back pressed against a tree. Seeing no other options besides confronting the strange shapes or running into the fog, she stuffed the book into her uniform pocket and reached up to climb the tree. Having suddenly been pressed to exert more energy, her muscles were sluggish, each motion making them more and more sore. But with a final harrumph she pulled herself into the nook of the oak tree and glimpsed the true fa?ade of the shadows below.


    Two malformed humanoids emerged into the light, like moths to a flame. But though from afar they seemed terrible enough, Sophie released an unsuspecting gasp when they finally turned their visage towards her direction. Skin drooped down from various places as if their body was just a jacket to be draped over themselves, arms sickly with ichor but with claws bursting from the stumps that used to be wrists. Open wounds and sores dotted the creatures as they drew closer to the flame. Pus filled pustules ruptured from the rapid change in temperature as Sophie struggled to hold back a disgusted gag. Clambering over the discarded item on the ground she watched as they lowered themselves to the ground, digging at the human shaped imprints and mounds searching for their next meal.


    Sophie tried backing further into the nook she hid in, and praying that the fire’s ambient noise would mask her as she tried reaching for a higher branch. With the tiniest crick and crack, it landed with an earth shattering thud as it smashed into the ground, pushing the fog out of the way.


    Like a raptor who’s been starved for far too long the two creatures bounded over to the location of the sound surprisingly quick and clawed desperately at the ground. Trying to reset her position and crouch back in the nook of the tree she carefully lowered herself into it, only to feel a sudden tingle on the back of her neck. Trying to distract herself from the situation, she instead found her hand closing around a moderately sized object. Grabbing it, she pulled it slowly in front of her and wanted to cry.


    Wiggling in her hand with a few too many appendages was a confused looking spider trying to make sense of what God had just plucked it from its perch. Eyes wide and lips quivering, Sophie fought the urge to whimper out loud or throw the creature away as every nerve within her screamed in alarm. It gazed back at her with a few too many eyes and mandibles and just when she was about to crush it a loud cry froze her and the eight legged abomination, drawing their attention below.


    Perhaps also stunned with fear, or just without the eyesight to see as far as she and wondering why it was flipped over with no motion of its own, the spider settled down in her palm. For her part she didn’t know if she should scream, laugh, cry, or run. What she saw gnawed at what little sanity she had left.


    Another gaggle of the disgusting creatures had emerged from beyond the flame’s edge, drawing not just hers but also the attention of the two ground lickers to the arrival. Beyond them Sophie could isolate the source of the loud cry, a cloaked figure being dragged on the ground behind them was missing most of its appendages, but alongside it was the elven woman she had seen inside the cart. Bruised and bloodied, she was missing a leg and parts of her arms from what Sophie could tell were wounds created from the forceful tearing of flesh. Still alive the woman groaned in agony as a creature greedily tried to take another bite, only for another one to batter it away with a palm. By the saints they’re intelligent.


    Yet to her increasing horror, from further back more shadows emerged, but these looked different, more decrepit than their already rotting counterparts. Whatever rotted necromantic vocal chords they had were making noises that no living being could replicate. Their skin was torn and filled with rotted holes, the bones a dark dirty mess. Their limbs jerked and twitched with every motion, one hand wielding a weapon and another with torches of sorts, waving them around like parade toys. Patches of bloodied animal fur, skins and other bizarre accessories dotted their bodies, almost like they’re trying to dress up, she shivered with a horrified thought. Gaunt faces lit up by the light showing a sickly tar colored face paired with parts that looked uncannily alive like eyes, ears or noses that looked a few shades too rotten to be human, but not as gone as she would’ve liked.


    Fighting back her disgust, what truly shook her nerves were what they had with them. Five almost unrecognizable humanoid things, almost. Scarred and shriveled beings stood before her, a drake-kin, two feline humanoids, a man and a woman, all of whom dressed with torn bits of armor. Adventurers or travelers, she almost whispered out loud and watched with morbid fascination as the undead forced them to their knees.


    One of the undead holding a bucket of sorts, scraped something out from inside and threw it to the ground in front of the prisoners. Viscous, slimy and gooey looking, lumps of back bulbous material mixed with what appeared to be organic forest flora. Though she had her doubts, her suspicions were proved correct when a sickening stench made its way past her, flesh of the undead boiled and mashed with flowers. And the prisoners ate it.


    Holding back the urge to retch, she dry heaved slightly, her stomach cramping and whimpering at the thought of consuming such matter. She felt light headed and faint, her heart racing in a blind panic as her suppressed pain resurfaced. Shifting her balance slightly, Sophie cringed as she heard the small scrape of boot to wood echo immediately around her, it’s over. Closing her eyes, she readied herself and accepted fate. Yet, when she opened one eye, she noticed that nothing had stabbed her yet, no monster hands shoving black goop into her mouth. Gingerly she opened her other eye, saw that nothing had heard the little scrape and let out a breath she didn’t even realize she had been holding in since it all began. They did notice that.