The events of the 2nd of Slate, 1073The stench of death assailed Jools as soon as he reached the shops and kitchens. It reeked, the entire floor did, and he saw Dwarves scurrying about with kerchiefs wrapped around their faces in an attempt to block it out. Some had gotten more creative in their attempts by smearing fish remains into their mustaches. "Idiots," he thought to himself. He willed himself to ignore the smell, one he'd experienced many times in his career as a soldier, and plodded up the steps to the surface.
It was pandemonium topside.
This, in itself, wasn't an all-together surprising event. Running, screaming, crying, the humming din of flies, it was almost par for the course. A monthly event, a form of relief in this terrible environment. But this was different. Dwarves were hugging the cliff side, vomiting out the contents of their stomachs into the nearly-drained magma vent. The Nobles, including Aryn and Sulari, were huddled together by the main gate, confirming together with their heads bowed. Curious. Quite curious.
What rocked him to his core was seeing the Elves, drenched in sweat and sick and blood, stumbling about as if in a daze. They were a wreck, their hollow eyes testament to terrible horrors.
"What has
happened," he said as one of them neared him, his voice barely above a whisper. The elf looked up at him with his glassy eyes, dead to the world.
"Poison," came the response. His voice was flat, none of the musical clarity that usually came with their words. "Poison in the grain."
"In the grain? What are you talking about?"
"The barrels of feed you keep near the gates. It was... it was tainted."
The merchant swept his hand back behind him, gesturing at the vast expanse of stones, towards the zoo and the trade depot. The camels that had carted in the goods to trade lay sprawled on the tiles, their guts dangling from their mouths. Blood pools underneath their heads, and great gouts of black flies gathered near their steaming, reeking bodies. When his eyes rose higher, he saw the cloud hovering over top the zoo. The enormity of it hit him like a sledge-strike to the sternum.
"The zoo, oh no, those poor caged animals... oh,
no, the donkeys..!"
His armor clattered together as he sprinted towards one of the doors. As he plowed through them the stench hit him almost as a wall itself, so thick he could taste it in the back of his throat. It looked like the inside of a slaughter house. Blood and intestines were sprayed everywhere, leaking out from behind the bars of the cages. The great Leopard was the only survivor, and it snarled and paced in its cage, terrified by all the death around it. He supposed he should free it, but his legs were leaden, and he could take no more than a few steps forward before collapsing onto his knees.
Slowly he lowered his head into his hands. Sobs racked his body at the senseless horror that surrounded him.
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Topic: Migrursut: What Comes After The World Ends? [Epilogue] (A Community Fort) (Read 388990 times)