Goblin Slayer peered down into the deep darkness of the cave. The four of them had traveled down to where Hunter and Priestess had been dragged down by the 'flesh arms'. They had to step carefully, as the slick surface threatened to send them tumbling down into the unknown. Warrior, Fighter, and Wizard had been terrified as he bashed down the teeth of the cave, and all but jumped out into the sunlight; turning to face the cave with raised weapons. Once they explained the situation to him, he told them he'd try to help their friends. This was still likely a goblin cave... or at least goblins were involved. Apparently the slime beneath his feet was a see-through layer of skin, slippery with sweat.
He was disgusted by this, but his need to kill goblins was strong, so he continued on. They had gotten to the point where the party had originally decided to turn back, and Goblin Slayer noted that there was indeed a torch burning further down. It had been dropped, likely by Hunter in his descent with Priestess. From what this party had told him, Hunter was a large man, and they seemed to believe somehow that he might've stopped the arm through sheer force alone. The flesh arm was reported to be thin, but very long, and attached to something much further down in the bowels of the cavern.
Goblin Slayer had intended to journey down alone, for these porcelains appeared near shell shocked from their experience. However, upon his offered help as a silver rank adventurer, they insisted that they follow him. He had no qualms with this, and kept his blade at the ready as he continued walking down, the party at his back. Their steps were shaky; a clear indicator of their fear, yet they continued.
As he walked over the clear flesh, he noticed two large tears upon its surface, as if something with two rough edges had scraped its way down. Bright red blood poured from these rips, leaving no doubt as to the fact that this was indeed flesh. Goblin Slayer could not see any veins within the translucent skin. Maybe even the veins themselves were see-through? That mattered little at the moment. Maybe the tracks were caused by Hunter's boot heels? He must have dug in to slow the drag. The trail zig-zagged down the narrowing corridor erratically, as if the arm had been trying to shake Hunter off of its prey.
The parted flesh curled to the side, exposing the normal gray stone beneath. The blood pooled into the space left by Hunter's boot heels, draining down the two crevices towards the bottom of the cave. Goblin Slayer noted that the fire down below; while sitting upon the skin of the cave, had not spread it's flame yet. The skin didn't catch fire. How was that possible? It didn't illuminate much, just some open space around itself. As everyone drew closer to it, Goblin Slayer noted that a third trail appeared between the two others. Instead of being split flesh, however, this one was black and seared from flame. Hunter had definitely dropped his torch. It had rolled down to the bottom in his descent.
The flesh could be burned by flame, yet the fire didn't spread? It must have been flame-resistant, but Goblin Slayer didn't know how that could be. Perhaps the moisture of the skin stopped the fire from spreading? Goblin Slayer did not know for certain. How was it that this skin could even sweat in the first place? There had to be a source of water somewhere that fueled this disgusting epidermis. Maybe an aquifer was further down in the cave; hydrating whatever creature this was.
Goblin Slayer was drawn out of his thoughts when heard something whizzing towards him, and he quickly ducked to the left. He slid easily along the slick surface of the cave as Goblin Slayer heard three voices shouting in unison behind him. He brought his blade up at the same instant of his slide and cleaved off the hand of a stone grey fleshy arm at the wrist. Oddly the blow cleaved through the limb with little effort. Dark red blood exploded from the wound as the dark clawed hand fell to the ground, sliding down into the darkness. Likely sliding all the way back into the bowels. The rest of the arm writhed like a tentacle, spraying blood from the open wound all over the rest of the party. More shouting followed by sputtering as the blood no doubt found it's way into their open mouths. It spattered Goblin Slayer's armor, and he gave no reaction, merely jumping forward and cleaving off another, larger section of the limb.
His torch showed that the thin arm stretched even further back than that, and again, he slid down, lopping off another large section of the arm. The individual arm parts fell onto the floor with a soft thud, rolling down towards the torch. His slide down was fast; his momentum aided by the sweaty skin under his feet. It was then that Goblin Slayer heard a scream from behind him. He turned his head slightly, seeing that Wizard had lost her footing, and was now slipping down towards the darkness.
He was about to throw aside the torch and catch the girl by the wrist, but Fighter and Warrior beat him to it. Warrior cast aside his blade, gripping Wizard by her left hand. Fighter, having no weapons but her fists, merely caught Wizards other wrist with her free hand. The three of them slid a bit further before they slowed to a stop. Goblin Slayer turned his attention back to the retreating limb in the darkness, slid forward, and lopped off more sections of the arm until he was standing right next to the fallen torch; which was now joined by several chunks of grey flesh and Warrior's second torch. The flesh surrounding the two flames was charred black from the heat, yet no flame caught.
He spotted Warriors broken sword, which now lay embedded in a thick section of flesh. The jagged end stuck up at an angle, bright red blood pooling around the wound in the caves skin. The limb still flailed, yet now attempted to retreat back into the darkness. Goblin Slayer got in another slice on the arm before it got out of sight. He realized that this arm moved far too erratically to have any kind of normal bone structure. Goblin Slayer looked to the dismembered pieces of limb now surrounding the torch and saw that no bone could be seen within the grey meat. Just still undulating muscles that leaked red from either end.
He had thought that these were a bit too easy to cut through. The lack of any real bones would make it so that cleaving through would be easy work. The rest of the party slid down after him, not calling his name for he could be seen clearly by torchlight. They all maintained their balance as they slid to a halt before the fallen torches. Goblin Slayer read the expression on their faces. They all seemed relieved, whether that be because Goblin Slayer was still in one piece or if seeing the arm be injured and driven back he couldn't tell for certain.
"No bones..." Wizard said, regarding the logs of arm next to her feet. "Not truly arms then... more tentacle."
Her eyes were slightly glazed over, and Goblin Slayer thought that she may be on the verge of snapping. It may be better to send these porcelains back. He couldn't be bothered to babysit insane adventurers. He looked over the other two, seeing that they also held a glazed look to them. Paranoia was evident as they looked all around them at each and every section of the wall. Eventually, their gaze settled on the deep darkness below. The corridor would narrow even further based on the walls leading down. They appeared to grow closer by the light of his torch. Soon it may only be possible for a single person to descend at a time.
"Get it together. Or go back." He told them simply.
Goblin Slayer needed not to point out why he said what he did. They weren't so far gone that they couldn't pick up on his meaning. Wizard blinked, and then looked up at him, taking her gaze away from the arms. The glazed look had somewhat vanished, yet it was still somewhat visible. She certainly wasn't stable, but it seemed that currently, she could function.
"I... yes I'm sorry." She said. "What should we do now?"
Warrior took a deep breath and drew his broken blade from the flesh with a wet slick. He swung the sword to shake off the blood and gripped it with both hands. The open wound the blade left in the flesh oozed bright red blood. He held it towards the darkness as if to ward off a pack of beasts. This wasn't far from the truth Goblin Slayer knew.
Fighter did the same, adopting a low crouch with her left leg and arm drawn back to strike. She stood right next to Warrior, looking into the unknowable depths. Goblin Slayer picked up one of the fallen torches nearby and walked towards the dip in the cave. To answer Wizard's question, he hucked the torch down into the blackness.
The orange flame illuminated everything it passed. It revealed that the corridor did indeed narrow to the point where single file was necessary. It passed ever-thickening skin coated walls until it illuminated a fork in the corridor. Two paths branched off on either side and the bloody trail caused by Hunter's boots abruptly ended at this fork. The torch collided with a hanging stalactite. It bounced off the skin coated stone and landed right between the two branching paths.
Goblin Slayer readied himself to strike as yet another arm flew up towards them from the path leading left. The party flinched next to him as it sped up towards them. Its dark claws were visible by torchlight for only an instant before passing through the darkness and up towards the party. It's writhing arm stretched further from the corridor it had exited, adding to its length as it sped towards them.
He then heard the same whizzing noise as earlier, and Goblin Slayer slashed at the source of the oncoming noise. The preemptive attack cleaved off three of the things fingers before it could grip Warrior's face. The thumb and index finger were the only digits spared, and the limb recoiled for only an instant before attempting to grab at the young man again. Warrior dodged back from the attack as Fighter chopped the arm with her hand. The blow connected with the things wrist, and much to Goblin Slayer's surprise, he heard the snapping of bone. There seemed to be bones in the hand and wrist of the tendril, but that was it. Wizard began to cant something as Warrior brought up his sword for another blow on the arm. Fighter backpedaled as to not be caught in the attack. Blood spattered the young man's face from the fingerless flailing of the arm, and he struck down with an overhanded blow.
The strike only just missed a hanging flesh-covered stalactite by a few hairs. Had the blade connected with that skin coated rock, it would have disrupted the strike. However, the broken sword proved it's worth as Warrior cleaved through the hand. The strike split the hand down the middle all the way to the boneless tendril. As the arm began retreated down below, Wizard shouted:
"Fire!"
A bright orange bolt of flame connected with the limb, and unlike the moist skin underfoot; it caught flame. Fire spread all the way down the length of the arm as it wriggled, illuminating the entire passage. It retreated in eerie silence as it slunk back into wherever it had came from, the passageway mostly returning to darkness; save for the torch still burning below.
Goblin Slayer turned, and picked up the other torch on the ground, handing it to Warrior who took it with a shaking hand.
"This is your last chance to turn back." He said to them.
They all hesitated, but all agreed that they would follow him down. Before they descended, however, Warrior asked him:
"How are you so calm about this? This place is so wrong..."
He turned back to the darkness broken by only a single torch and uttered:
"I have to kill the goblins."
...
...
...
Morg swung the Kirkhammer in wild swaths, the air parting for the powerful strikes. Hunter dodged and weaved between the blows, though not without difficulty. The goblin may have been large, but it was fast with its swings, and their wild nature made them difficult to predict. They both splashed about in the white liquid with each movement, Morg trying to land a blow on the still too fast Hunter.
He darted in and out of Morg's guard, striking out with fists, chops, and clawed strikes. This did seemingly nothing to break the flesh of the giant goblin, and Hunter was starting to realize that he'd need more than his hands to bring down this beast. His belt knife likely wouldn't be that much help either. He needed a weapon meant for tearing through beast flesh... something that could crush and slice. Morgs many eyes glared at him with hatred, their yellow hue corrupted by red bloodshot veins.
Morg growled as he raised the Kirkhammer overhead, bringing it down where Hunter had been only a split second before. The blow splashed white liquid everywhere, spattering Hunter's outfit with even more of the stuff. The liquid hit Morgs eyes, and they seemed unaffected by the irritation it might have caused. What was this stuff anyhow?
The thought was interrupted by a sweeping fist that caught Hunter on his left side. Blood instantly shot up Hunter's throat as he coughed, and he was sent flying through the air. He landed with a splash in the darkness. He attempted to draw in a breath, and the sharp pain that accompanied the action stopped him in his tracks. Morg had likely just cracked each and every rib in Hunter's left side, with but a single punch.
The overhead strike was just a bluff to get him to leap away, with the white liquid as a way to help obscure the oncoming blow. Hunter grit in his teeth as he tasted blood on his tongue, and quickly shot up from the white water. Morg was on him in an instant, closing the distance that had been made by his strike. Hunter dodged another overhand blow, and the second strike from Morg's oversized fist.
Hunter would not fall for the same attack twice. The ache in his side was miserable, but that was nothing compared to the other emotion coursing through him. Hunter gave a mad tooth-filled grin as he looked up at the goblin.
The thrill was coming in force. It wiped away all of his fear, all other thoughts. The only thing he knew in that moment was how to enjoy the fight. It coursed through his veins and made his chest burn with excitement. He saw a new way to hurt this beast. Really, it was odd that he did not try this earlier. Morg was covered in the things after all.
Hunter darted under a horizontal swing of the Kirkhammer, and snatched a yellow eyeball out of the large beasts kneecap as Hunter passed by. Morg gave a scream of pain, clutching the knee cap that Hunter had injured with a huge freehand. Hunter looked down at the eye, and then back up at Morg as he crushed it in his fist.
"You want to tussle you vile thing!? Well, come on!" He shouted, dashing forwards once again.
The liquid did little to slow Hunter down, and under the influence of the thrill, he barely noticed it. He tore out another eye, and another, then another. Hunter repeated this, every dodge and weave removing one of Morg's many eyes. The red glow was brighter now, lighting up the entire cavern and revealing its secrets. It was bigger than he had initially suspected... and his instincts seemed to screech at him to investigate.
Hunter ignored them, opting to instead follow his thrill. He swiped and tore out another eye from Morgs elbow. He crushed each eye in his grip, and each one he destroyed seemed to make the crimson glow brighten. There was no longer darkness, but a red light as bright as daylight all around the two combatants. Hunter believed that he had torn out most of Morgs eyes by this point, and began cackling madly as he dodged a clumsy strike. Morg was getting slower and slower with each eye removed, and the ache in Hunter's side was all but gone now.
Hunter stood across from Morg, his hands bloodied with yellowish gore. The goblins now empty eye sockets now lay closed and twitching, but the remaining eyes still glared at him. Hunter took a step forward, and Morg flinched. Seeing his chance, Hunter darted towards the giant. It would be child's play to kill this thing off now, just a few more eyes and-
Morg shot forward with a straight kick, the blow colliding with Hunter's chest. Hunter coughed up what felt like an entire cup of blood as he flew backward. He landed with his back on the cool stone, and the mysterious white liquid flowed over him. It smothered him, flowing through the small opening of his collar and flooding his nostrils. It tasted of salt and the sharp flavor of... flavor of...
Fuzz
Hunter sputtered as he struggled to rise, the pain in his chest feeling like a dozen needles piercing his lungs.
It felt as if every single rib Hunter had was shattered, and the thrill vanished. Clarity returned with the pain, drawing him out of the intoxication of competition. Hunter looked around, seeing Morg walking towards him slowly, confidently. The goblin likely thought that it had already won. With Hunter's injuries, Morg may be right.
He saw that, indeed, the glow had erased the darkness. On the far end of the room, he could see a massive bright multicolored eye staring at him. The thing was at least as big as Morg, and the round black pupil shrunk as it sighted him. The red tendrils writhing overhead connected to the eye from the ceiling. They led down the wall and ran over the white of the eye like vertical bloodshot veins. That was the First Eye, and Hunter hated it. He hated the way it seemed to recognize him, focusing on Hunter's each and every movement. Maroon colored fleshy walls stretched out on either side of the First Eye, and it was spotted with round white dots. He was too far away to see what they were up close, but Hunter suspected that they were other smaller eyeballs.
Perhaps they were the removed eyes of the faces he had seen? Hunter reached into his satchel, gripping a glass oblong vial in his hand. Red fluid like that of blood swished within its container, and Hunter popped the cork. It was shameful to have to heal himself like this mid-battle. It was not honorable, but Hunter couldn't afford to lose here. Plus, he didn't feel too ashamed. Morg has been altered by outside sources to be stronger, Hunter was certain.
His brow furrowed at the thought. Why did he feel like a hypocrite?
He undid the laces of his collar, shoving the thought from his mind. He tended to get distracted at the oddest times. He was about to chug the liquid down when a massive wave of the white liquid washed over him. Morg stood over him now, having sprinted up to Hunter upon sighting the vial in his hands. The wave had knocked the potion from his grasp, and it was lost in the pale fluid. Hunter tried to roll away, but his intense pain slowed him. Morg grabbed Hunter's right forearm in a crushing grip and yanked him up in a sudden jerk.
Pain exploded from his arm as Morgs sudden motion shattered the bone. Hunter screamed, blood exploding from his mouth and spattering Morgs face. Hunter was now being held in Morg's open hand, just over the goblins face as Morg peered into Hunter's face. Morg growled, and Hunter summoned strength he didn't know he still possessed. He reared his leg back and kicked Morg in his normal left eye.
He felt his foot push the organ far back within Morgs skull, and the goblin screamed. The bellow threatened to burst Hunter's eardrums, and the goblin threw Hunter in the direction of the first eye. Hunter was in excruciating pain as he landed in the pool of white water. Morg still shouted, but Hunter could not see him despite how bright the glow was. His motion continued until his back collided with one of the flesh walls, knocking whatever breath he had left out of him in a wheeze. He felt something crunch with the impact on the wall, though it didn't sound like bone.
Hunter's vision tunneled and grew dim. Morg still screamed; though the sound was dampened somewhat by what Hunter believed was a concussion. He didn't think this would be how he died honestly. It felt as if his lungs had been pierced by his broken ribs, for each breath cost him in pain and blood. His eyes widened somewhat when he remembered the satchel.
He slowly reached into the bag, feeling several shattered bits of glass through the white liquid that had seeped in. Not a vial survived Morgs throw. Hunter's head slapped back against the flesh wall, and he grit his teeth in frustration. He'd at least try to kill Morg before he himself died. Hopefully, the rest either got out or saved Priestess. His vision tunneled further, but he noticed Morg, now approaching him even slower than before. Likely the goblin wanted to take no more risk in finishing Hunter off. Morg's left eye was a gory paste, and Hunter grinned at that.
He attempted to stand, but his legs failed him, and he remained sitting.
Hunter wouldn't allow himself to perish sitting down. He would die standing on his own two feet, like a man. He was about to attempt rising once more when he heard a light jingle; right over his head. Like that of metal rings.
"H...Heal..." A small, rasping voice said.
A light appeared overhead, and Hunter felt his bones reknit themselves. He coughed up what felt like an entire bathtub of blood as his lungs seemed to empty themselves, and his ribs fell back into place. The sundered flesh of his ankle sealed itself, the long-forgotten pain of the wound disappearing. Hunter took a huge breath and shot to his feet. Priestess was here!? How was that possible? Hunter turned with a smile on his face, only for that smile to twist down in horror.
He put a hand to his mouth to suppress a scream.
"No... No..." He muttered.
"It..." She said, taking a breath. "It hurts so much... everything hurts..."
Priestess was integrated within the flesh. Her once pale skin was now a pinkish hue as it melded with the darker meat around it. Her clothes had been stripped at some point, but her lower body was now almost indistinguishable from the rest of the dark red flesh around it. Her once bright blonde hair was stained red with the same vicious stuff in the face room, and it hung down in matted clumps. She held the head of her staff in hand, gripping it with whatever strength she had left. The shaft had been broken away at some point, but somehow she was able to keep a hold of the head of her staff. Did the goblins let her keep it? Why?
Hunter took a shaky breath as he noticed the several eyes surrounding the poor girls head, all of different colors as they stared at him. He could see a pleading in their gaze as their tears of pure white poured down the flesh wall. It flowed into the liquid that Hunter had been splashing about in during his battle with Morg. Then Priestess opened her eyes... her blue, innocent eyes, and wept tears of white.
Hunter vomited into the white tears at his feet. The red puke contrasted with the pale liquid as it floated atop it. It left a sour taste in his mouth.
"It hurts..." Priestess said again.
Hunter's head shot up as he heard Morg approaching from behind. He turned to face the beast, but his head was not in the fight. He had never felt so hopeless in his life, at least what he could bloody well remember about it. He had failed in the worst way possible. He wanted to drown himself in the tears and let himself die for his failure, but going against those wishes, he kept on his feet.
"It's... it's everywhere... Hunter... The Eyes are everywhere... Please... kill me..." Priestess rasped. "I feel... Everything it feels..."
Hunter slowly and shakily turned his head back to Priestess, and her eyes held the same pleading as the ones surrounding her. The eyes of people that had been forced into this fleshy thing. This offensive, evil creature. Morg walked slower, glancing at the First Eye with every step. It was as if he were scared of the thing. Hunter drew his belt knife with a shaky hand and placed it against Priestess's throat. Clear tears flowed down his own cheeks as he slit the girl's throat. She gasped as crimson flowed down with the pale tears of her face. The blood overtook the milky tears; contrasting against the fluid as it blossomed out past Hunter's calves.
Priestess's eyes dulled and grew lifeless. Her face did not take on any form of serenity upon death. It instead looked pained and miserable. Hunter shut her eyes with a swipe of his thumb as she dropped her staff head to the tears with a small splash. He leaned down and gripped the metal in his hands. The rings jingled as he placed it in his satchel.
He bared his teeth, lips drawing back like that of a wolf as he turned back to Morg, red hot hate in his vision.
Hunter snapped.
He charged towards Morg madly, his fingers curled like claws. The goblin flinched at this and actually took a step back. Morg then kicked his foot forward in an attempt to catch Hunter in the chest again. He dodged it easily and swiped a clawed hand at the heel of Morgs large foot.
Hunter tore off the entire heel without a problem. He cast it into the water like worthless trash as Morg howled. The goblin backpedaled, favoring his right leg now that his left was missing a heel. Blood mixed in with the white tears, swirling in patterns. Hunter ran forward, and swiped again, this time ripping out an entire lower rib. Morg howled and grabbed his new wound while Hunter slid next to the goblins good leg. Still gripping the bone in hand, he rammed the rib point first into Morgs kneecap.
He felt it easily punch through the giant's leg and exit the other side. Blood now was beginning to overtake the tears below, streaks of white being broken apart by the thicker fluid. Morg collapsed to his left knee, dropping the Kirkhammer with a wet splash in blood and tears as the goblin gripped the injured limb.
Morg backpedaled in the water as Hunter picked up his Kirkhammer, the weight of it felt familiar and very welcome in his grasp. The goblin continued to back away on both hands, it's legs all but useless to it now. Morg's remaining eyes darted about the cavern, looking for any way to escape the beast coming for him. Hunter braced the hammer on his shoulder, and jumped forward, swinging the hammer down with all of his might. Morg brought up a wide hand to block the blow.
Hunter's hammer struck Morgs palm and bent the hand backward with a crack. The Kirkhammer continued with its momentum and cracked Morgs forearm back as well. The limb now hung useless in the now almost completely reddened liquid. Hunter sheathed the hammer at his back and drew the silvery blade from its stone sheath. The sound of steel sliding from stone was a welcome sound to his ears. The hammer head remained attached to his back somehow, and the weight would have likely made a normal man collapse.
It didn't bother Hunter in the slightest as he ran forward again, raising his blade for a horizontal swing aimed at Morgs throat. The goblin raised its good hand up to block this blow, and the sword cleaved off all of Morgs fingers and sliced through the goblin's throat. The individual digits fell to the now completely reddened tears with small splashes, and Morg fell beneath the red ponds now gently rolling waves. Hunter had not merely sliced the throat, he had cut through half of Morgs bull neck, knicking the spine.
"Prey Slaughtered." Hunter said, turning his gaze back to the eye at the back of the small cavern.
The eye began to dart from side to side as Hunter approached it, his rage reddening his vision. He noticed that trails of red light were now flowing from his eyes, making the red glow of the cave seem dull in comparison. He trudged through the bloody tears, snarling like a beast. He approached the multicolored eye, which now was focusing on him. Its black pupil lay directly in front of him now, and Hunter stabbed his blade through its middle.
He drove the blade forward, using his rage to fuel his strength. He screamed as the red tendrils detached themselves from the eye and began to whip at him in a frenzy. The blows did little to stop him. He felt his flesh and leather both split from the lashings, and the pain that exploded from his back urged for his attention. Hunter would give it none; this pain was nothing compared to his burning hate. He twisted the blade violently and began tearing out chunks of the eye with his free hand. The eye reddened, and the tendrils slowed their barrage as Hunter continued his assault. Hunter then drew the blade and began hacking at the eye in huge bloody swathes.
The red glow dimmed, and even the micro motions of the flesh wall ceased. Soon, he was completely absorbed by darkness, and still, he hacked at the eye.
The ringing of yet another bell sounded in his ears, but Hunter ignored it and the voices accompanying it. They had nothing important to say right now. He hacked and slashed for what felt like an eternity. Time ceased to exist, only the constant slicing of flesh could do anything to calm him. Eventually, he felt himself surrounded by fog. The bright white illuminated what it did not obscure, and this is what brought him out of his blood rage.
He looked down at his blade, now drenched in spots of gore and painted with blood. No hint of color could be seen underneath that shade of angry red. The pain in his back had completely disappeared, though he knew not why that was. Hunter felt numb. Maybe that was why? He took a deep breath and sheathed the blade back within the Kirkhammer. He turned around and began walking. He swayed through the red bloody pond towards where the fog gate had been and stopped when he noticed a figure approaching him though the wispy rolling fog.
Old and hunched over, Unseen appeared before him. He didn't appear bothered by the lake of blood that reached over his calves. His blind eyes still covered by bloody bandages, Unseen still seemed to look directly at him. The old man looked troubled.
"One for three..." Unseen said, looking back towards the remains of the eye.
Hunter paused.
"Are you saying that... if it wasn't her..." Hunter said silently.
Unseen nodded, turning his eyeless gaze to the ground.
"I am sorry." Unseen said.
Hunter bared his teeth.
"You're sorry!?" He shouted. "Why didn't you warn me!? Why didn't you warn her!? I know now that you are far more than you seem!"
Hunter's vision reddened again, the wispy trails of red light brightening the fog. Unseen shook his head.
"I didn't know if it would even happen... the sight you did leave me with is fickle..." Unseen told him.
The sight Hunter left him with?
"Who are you?" Hunter asked, biting every word off with anger.
"You don't... you really don't remember Unseen do you? But that makes sense." Unseen rasped, his voice conveying something akin to... anger? Hunter coulnd't believe that Unseen was even capable of such an emotion. "I am sorry... but the fog is close to finding me now. We must go.
Without another word, Unseen reached a hand forward with blinding speed, gripping Hunter by the shoulder.
And just like that, they were gone.
...
...
...
Goblin Slayer could find no way to continue down into the depths of the cave. The two branching forks narrowed far too much for even a single person to traverse safely. He would have had to slide down on his back or belly to fit through. He was able to see what lay beyond that point, and that was what had made him stop. It appeared that the two arms had dragged the two party members into a mound of sticky moistened flesh. Upon Goblin Slayers noticing of it, the flesh parted to reveal a dark shaft leading into undulating muscle.
There were no goblins here.
There may have been at some point, but whatever this cavernous flesh creature was, it had killed them. The only thing left to do was set this entire cave on fire. He didn't have enough oil to burn the cave, and Wizard was hesitant to use her last spell. She had said that it wouldn't have spread a flame anyhow, for the torches did not do such whatsoever. Goblin Slayer was about to lob a lit torch into one of the undulating flesh shafts but was urged by the porcelains to stay his hand.
The party wanted to wait until Hunter and Priestess returned. If they even could return. They waited outside of the mouth of the cave, looking at the single shattered tooth with anticipation. The entrance Goblin Slayer had made was not perfect. He had shattered most of the bone, but a jagged knee-high section still jutted up from the ground. They all had to step over it carefully, lest they accidentally tear something.
Everyone, Goblin Slayer included, jumped backward when the teeth suddenly retracted back into their sockets. The points of the teeth were layered over with a small slab of stone. This grey stone was indistinguishable from that of the rest of the cave, fitting in place as if they were always meant to be there. Curious, the flesh cave likely didn't do that on its own... The arms didn't seem to reach that far up. Maybe goblins were living within the cave after all.
Perhaps it was a sort of symbiosis between the creatures. He would need to make sure to be on the lookout for more flesh caves if he found any. They had gathered the fallen torches on the trip back up and extinguished them upon exit. Warrior had put them away in his satchel and was facing the now open cave mouth with his broken sword drawn. The younger man looked determined now that he was out of the cave, but his expression looked guilt-ridden.
It was much the same for Fighter and Wizard, the two of them looking crestfallen.
Likely the three of them blamed themselves for what had happened to Hunter and Priestess. Goblin Slayer continued to wait with them like that for an hour. He was about to speak up, and tell them that it was likely that Hunter and Priestess were dead when he heard the crunch of footsteps coming from the mouth of the cave. Each footfall was followed by a consistent scrape of something along stone. It sounded like stone on stone... yet that couldn't be, the skin of the cave should have silenced that noise. Goblin Slayer drew his blade, and Wizard began canting something.
Whatever she was saying died in her throat when a tall leather-clad man stepped out of the cave. The man was dragging a huge stone hammer behind him, leaving a trail behind him as he stepped into the light. He was covered in dark red blood and gore, and white liquid dripped from his clothing where red did not. His face was completely painted over with blood, concealing the color of his skin but not concealing his age. He looked to be a man of twenty-five years, with a bold nose and wide square face. A big bloody beard concealed his jaw, and a frown split that beard. His dark eyes were wide and fogged over.
This man had seen hell.
"Hunter!" Wizard shouted, running forward.
Hunter's eyes widened as he turned to regard the much smaller woman, seeming to just now notice where he was. Hunter looked about at the blue sky, the sun still shining down upon them. The light reflecting off of his bloody form. Warrior and Fighter approached as well, albeit a bit slower than Wizard did. Hunter spotted them too and then turned his gaze on Goblin Slayer. The two locked gazes a moment before Hunter's attention was drawn away by Wizard.
"Are you hurt?" She said, looking him over.
Hunter grunted in response. Goblin Slayer looked him up and down noticing now that his clothing was torn in several places, exposing the skin beneath. It looked as if something had lashed his back at some point, for several long vertical tears were visible as he continued to turn about for Wizard to inspect. Goblin Slayer noted that none of the tears in Hunter's clothing revealed open wounds. It was as if he had been healed by magic. If that were the case, where was Priestess?
Goblin Slayer didn't need to think on it long. The girl was surely dead.
"Where's Priestess?" Warrior asked him, peering behind him into the cave.
"I..." Hunter said, trailing off.
The large man's gaze again found Goblin Slayer. Hunter's eyes narrowed at him, as if trying to figure something out.
Goblin Slayer's eyes widened with a sudden, and unignorable urge. He then approached the four of them. He drew his blade for what he needed to do, but making sure to look non-threatening in his approach. He needed to kill this thing before it could kill anyone else.
...
...
...
Hunter's eyelids felt heavy, and he barely could hear whatever it was that his surviving party members were saying. Their words were murky and difficult to make out, as if he were trying to hear them speak with his head submerged in water. All he could really think about was his failure to protect Priestess. She had died because of him. It was because he couldn't stop the arm, he wasn't strong enough to stop it. The guilt ate at his core and threatened to consume him. He had promised that he would keep all of them safe, and he had broken his promise. He should have paid more attention to the party at the mouth of the cave. He should have had them stand closer to him.
Should of, should of, should of.
Hunter noticed another person approaching the four of them, a shortsword drawn and poised towards Hunter's throat. His eyes widened when he finally recognized the steel-clad man. It was the person he had passed that one day back in town... the one that had startled him. Hunter didn't move, for he knew what the man was doing.
Hunter had noticed it too.
It needed to be done.
A goblin wearing a bone mask leapt out of the darkness. It ran for the woods in a hopeless attempt to escape. The armored man closed the distance effortlessly, tackling the goblin and shoving his sword into it's back. He twisted his blade and ripped the blade free as the goblin gurgled belly down on the hard earth. The bone mask had shattered against the dirt from the force of the tackle, exposing the twisted face beneath.
Many yellow eyes stared lifelessly at nothing. There were eight of them and were arranged like that of an arachnid. The armored man stood but continued to stare at the goblin. Hunter couldn't tell, but the man seemed... bothered by the sight. He certainly hadn't seen a goblin-like this before, that was certain. The man leaned down to inspect the corpse further as Hunter turned back to the mouth of the cave.
The party had been standing behind him, and his sudden turn got their attention back on him. They had been looking at the mouth of the cave, readying spell and weapon to kill any more escaping goblins. Hunter held out a hand.
"Torch."
They hesitated.
"Torch!" Hunter shouted.
Warrior scrambled to reach into his satchel, pulling out a once used torch. Hunter took the thing gently and approached the lip of the cave. The party trailed behind him as he went. The skin of the cave had dried and cracked underfoot like dried autumn leaves. It would surely catch fire now. Hunter sheathed the Kirkhammer at his back, the weapon drawing the gazes of the three other adventurers. He ignored them, grabbing flint and steel as he lit the tool. The flame caught slowly, but soon it engulfed the head of the torch once more. Hunter reared back his arm and threw it to the bottom of the accursed cave.
The torch impacted on the dead flesh, and the flame spread easily. Soon it shot up to the mouth of the cave, and Hunter backed away as the flames engulfed the entire entrance. It looked as if the cave was ready to breathe fire upon them, and based on everything that happened today, Hunter wouldn't be surprised if it did just that. He stared into the rolling flames, his expression flat and eyes dull.
As he continued to peer into the fire, ignoring the party's questions, the memories he had suppressed during his battle with Morg surfaced.
...
...
...
"Didja hear?" Ringle asked in his heavily accented voice.
The man was definitely from backwater Chuden. The low brow and splayed ears were a giveaway, but not nearly as much as the smaller man's voice.
Hunter shook his head.
"Those are just rumors Ringle," Hunter said, his voice notably deeper than that of the last memory he had experienced. "You can't honestly believe them."
The barracks were cold this night. Winter had crept in on them before they even had time to notice it, and the thin blankets drawn up over their heads did little to stave off the biting cold. Ringle was laying on the bunk atop of his, the springy mattress likely not doing wonders for his back. Hunter's own bed wasn't any better, but Hunter preferred the lower bunk. If he rolled off he wouldn't have that far of a drop.
The barracks were depressingly empty of troops. Everyone else was stationed out in the trenches while Hunter and Ringle had to take some mandatory rest. It had been almost three days since either of them slept, the
Fuzz
Were constantly pushing on the line, and every inch given advanced the fog further into their lands. It was worse in other places of course. The nation of Beked reported that the fog simply rolled right on past their forces without stopping, slowly but surely engulfing their lands.
"I think it's true," Ringle said off handidly. "Think about it, don't it seem weird?"
Hunter rolled his eyes and shifted on his side.
"The fog isn't trying to get to Yharnam," Hunter said. "The fog is the fog, it brings the
Fuzz
At random. There isn't a pattern to it, it just is. It's a force of nature, you can't really predict it Ringle, you can only deal with it when it comes."
He thought he could feel Ringle shrug above him.
"It's takin' it's time tryin' to eat us," Ringle argued. "Like it's bein' careful. Yharnam's near the center of Chuden right?"
"I mean... yeah I guess. Yharnam's not really a part of Chuden though. They scorn our church and keep to themselves. More of a city-state if you ask me." Hunter responded. "I just don't know why someone would think the fog'd want Yharnam, it's just full of backwater hicks like you."
"I've been to Yharnam once before ya know?" Ringle said. "Ain't no proper hicks that I could see, but man those fella's sure did hate outsiders. Couldn't stay for long without all o' them peerin' in on my business fer bein' there. They're hidin' somethin' I tell ya."
Hunter shook his head, but he knew Ringle wouldn't see the motion.
"They're just assholes Rings. They can't be that important."
Ringle shifted again.
"Yeah, we'll see." Ringle responded in his country drawl.
Hunter rolled his eyes again.
"Just get some sleep Rings, Sumen will have our ass if we're still tired by time we gotta guard."
He shifted to his other side, peering out of a closed barred window and into the single bright full moon. Its silver glow was beautiful.
...
...
...
Ringle was one of his war buddies, that was right. A good friend as Hunter remembered. Yharnam however, drew his attention a thousandfold more than his old friends. That name resonated with him in a way that Hunter could not quite understand. Thinking of anything past the name brought the fog in terrible force to cloud his thoughts. The same fog he had spoken to Ringle about. It was here in this world.
Hunter dropped his head at the thought. He could no longer believe that he was from this place. His world had only one large moon, shining a brilliant white in the sky. He would look at a map to confirm, but he was confident in his assessment. He was in another world. That was why everyone still used medieval weaponry, and why two moons shone in the sky at night.
And in one form or another, the fog had followed him here.
He felt as if this were far more dangerous than anything he had to deal with in the flesh cave. Hunter would have to find a way to disperse it completely, lest it devour this world. That was why he felt as if he were still at war...
It was because he was.
The fog tried it's best to occlude his thoughts of Yharnam, but that revealed a certain truth to Hunter.
Yharnam had been important, and the fog really was trying to get to it.
Hunter was tired, and his half-lidded gaze turned back to the armored man. He still stood, examining the goblin. Warrior, Fighter, and Wizard were all looking him over for injury. Their gazes were drawn to the writing engraved on the sides of the massive stone block of a weapon. Wizard had taken a keen interest in the dialect, but still gave Hunter the same amount of attention.
Hunter had stepped away from the burning cave mouth a few moments after the fire caught. He didn't want to look at it anymore. He was so tired, and the sun was only now passing into the afternoon hours. How long had he been down there? It felt like forever, but it looked as little more than an hour had passed. Maybe an hour and a half at most.
"Hunter... where's Priestess?" Warrior asked him.
Hunter looked into Warrior's eyes, and shook his head slowly. The young man's shoulders slumped. They had other questions for him, but Hunter couldn't bring himself to answer any more. He continued to ignore the questions from his party members, instead hanging his head low as he sat down.
He crossed his legs and placed the palms of his hands on his thighs with elbows up in the air. Hunter noticed then, that the questioning had ceased. Likely they realized that bothering Hunter after his ordeal with the cave wasn't exactly helping him. He spotted the armored man out of the corner of his eye; leaning down over the goblin as he severed its head. That was odd, the creature was surely dead. Why the extra precaution?
Hunter shook his head.
Anything coming out of that flesh cave shouldn't just be decapitated, it should be burned as well. The armored man likely thought the same, though he did not throw the head into the flame. He instead began cauterizing the bloody stump of the neck with a torch. Could it be that he was wanting to take it back with him to be examined? It was possible.
More time passed, and eventually, he felt arms under him, urging him to move. Hunter complied, coming slowly to his feet. Then they were moving. The party had completed the damned quest, and they were finally going back to town. It wasn't long before they found the trail once more. Hunter heard the armored man 'Goblin Slayer' speak of another goblin cave nearby. Goblin Slayer had said that he would take care of it and that they should all go home. Hunter was too deep in his thoughts to really put up any argument.
So they parted, with the party heading north and Goblin Slayer south along the trail. They walked for a time, but Hunter didn't think on it's passing. The only thing that was at the forefront of his mind was his failure to protect Priestess. She had suffered the worst fate possible, and it was because he was too slow to reach her in time. Had he gotten through the cave faster, he may have been able to save her.
The guilt ate at him like a colony of red ants nesting in his heart. Soon, night had come. Hunter only noticed this because his party members had stopped his dead walk. They directed him towards their old campsite from the night before, the one with the stream, and began to set up camp. Hunter merely stood there, staring into nothing as two moons shined overhead.
Eventually, Wizard had come to speak with him, but her words couldn't be understood by Hunter at that moment. He was still in to deep within his mind. She urged him towards the stream with a gentle shove, and Hunter moved. Soon he was behind the bushes, alone. Hunter looked down into the clear water, seeing no reflection staring back at him. Hunter didn't bother stripping off his gear, he merely submerged himself in the water, and sat there like that.
And for the first time during this trip, he felt truly exhausted.