Skill:

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Abaddon
~ Requesting plague daddy ~

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The evening crept, the mouth of the growing night yawning to engulf the quiet air. The night would come, ominous and ebony. And the mist, heavy and hollow, hung in heaving drapes across the forest floor. The tendrils of the willows above reached downward with intent toward the creatures that lingered in the undergrowth, somehow also blocking the light form the sunset in the distant sky beyond.

Draugur was ... comfortable here.

He'd traveled only a little ways out of Mistveil, his large paws moving with silent, intentful steps. Ever since their battle with the bears of the sand, Draugur had spent his evenings searching for more of the fuckers.

It had felt ... good ... to fight them. He remembered the sting of the sand on his face, burning into his eyes and burrowing beneath his fur to sear his skin. He remembered the feeling of his fangs in their disembodied necks, ripping and tearing until they disintegrated.

Just like his dreams, they melted.

Twisted. Spiraled.

And so he traveled through the misted undergrowth, the edges of his own corporeal form hazy against the silver vapor. Nostrils would flare, the muscles of his youthful shoulders rolling as he prowled into the coming evening in search of things that were neither alive nor dead.

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Skill: Ghost

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Abaddon stalked Draugur unknowingly. His brother seemed to have no idea the massive beast was stalking him incessantly, his eyes never leaving to pale Revenant as he slipped Abaddon slipped. The monochrome monster slipped from behind tree to tree, ducking behind brush and doing a damn good job of hiding.

Abaddon too remembered the sting of the bears, the prize he'd won afterwards, the taste of battle fresh on his lips. It was extremely intoxicating. Their bites leaving nothing, the way they fell hard. It was all too good to be true and it had given the boy a new sense of self.

The boy stopped behind a tree to watch his brother like the creeper he was.

Plague Effect: 「 Poisonous fog - irritates eyes, mouth, ears and nose 」

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From the darkness, a being emerged.

And within the still silence of mist and shadowed trees, the clang of clinking chains echoed quietly into the midnight air. It was a sound that appeared to whistle within the quiet breeze and reverberate between the wooden trunks of pine.

It was a discordant note loud enough to make any passerby pause with thoughtful suspicion. The forest had never made such sounds before, could it have all been in your head? And yet, the sound continued…

Growing louder with each thoughtful step forward.

And in its wake, the squelch of something damp and moist oozed into the once peaceful earth. A sound you would have expected in a bog or a swamp—not a dense pine forest.

However, between the expanding mist that only seemed to grow denser between you and your brother, the circluating sound of rattling metal and squelching ooze could only be described as exceedingly disorienting.

Something was coming for you — something was hunting you — but what?

After a few passing beats, a guttural growl escaped like a line cast into a sea of mist, luring you both to uncover what type of monsters truly lived within the shadows.

A voice seemed to come from a space behind you: Filit thilkren, (“Foolish children,”) it uttered, the sound like rot and filth against your ears, Yia an sepalond hire. (”You don’t belong here.”)