Chapter 6 - Dark Deals
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When: 03.14.993 A.C. - 0001 hours F.C.T.
Where: in the depths under Morinrayne Manor, in a concealed room under the manor's dungeon.
Who: Sir Aliester Fordham, Arcane Knight Commander of the Morinrayne Region Guard

Aliester looked around the altar he'd painstakingly prepared, checking each item against the list he had his spellbook open to. The moonstone bathed in the blood of an innocent sacrificed on the first full moon after the winter solstice was still sitting there unresponsive though. 'Why isn't it lighting up, surely the stellar alignment is starting already?'

He paced around the altar, anxiously waiting, ignoring the crying 'creatures' (as he thought of them) in cages off to the side of the magic circle painted on the floor in front of the altar. He began to open his senses as he started the ritual to cast Detect Magic so he could read the flow of mana through the sigils and altar, when the candles on the altar, the only source of light in the room, all went out at once. 'Finally,' he thought.

The runes written inside the magic circle on the floor lit up with green flames. The flames spark and leap to the circle itself, and thick yellow smoke billows out of the tops of the dancing green flames of the circle. The smell of sulfur filling the air as the Night Trader appears.

A sickly fat man standing easily six and a half feet tall, with greasy black hair long enough to be tied into a ponytail. He wore a white fine jacket and ruffled tunic under it. White slacks, and an ivory cane in his left hand. His skin was pale white, with a greenish hint like he was malnourished or sick. But his eyes, his eyes and his teeth when he smiled, that is how you knew he wasn't a human standing there. Eyes like a cat, and teeth like rows of shark teeth. He does a slight bow and asks, "To what do I owe this pleasure again so soon? Why have you summoned me here?"

"I've had a bounty and wanted to share it with you early in hopes of earning a little something more for my efforts." Aliester groveled appropriately with his tone, he'd done his research long before the first time he'd summoned the Night Trader and knew it was the best tone to begin any negotiation with this particular dark being. He'd been highly selective in his choice of who to summon, who to make a deal with. The laws said that consorting with demons and devils are strictly forbidden. But demons are chaotic beings from the void, and devils are evil aligned celestial beings from the hells. The Night Trader however was neither of those. It was something else entirely. It couldn't care less about mortal perspectives, except to manipulate them to it's own needs as favorably as possible. It thrives on making deals. And in a way, as long as you can continue to interest it, it will continue to favor you with good trades. 

And that is how Aliester found himself standing here in the witching hour, making a deal with the Dark Lord of Night Travelers. Because he makes deals with all sides, he cares not for their conflicts. If you need it, and will pay his price, he will get it for you. The Night Trader looked around the room taking in the offering before leveling his gaze at Aliester and saying with a smirking look, "And what would you ask for these children ten and three? That is more than double the asked amount."

"I wish a boon of knowledge. I want to understand the magic which caused this fish to mutate," Aliester started, lifting his hand to point to the Arcane Koi from the swarm that attacked the town prior to sunset that he'd lain before the altar before beginning his ritual earlier. "I want to understand the secret of the ley lines, and I want to know how to protect my village from the wild storms that have been happening."

"Is that all you want to know?" The Night Trader asks patiently.

"Unless your stance on how to open the vault I found in the undercity has changed, I'd also like a boon of powerful item. And to go with that, I have another dozen of the elves, though they are a little older. I did check and they maintain their innocence." Aliester said, his hand twisting into an arcane form, signaling from afar with magic, and a pair of guards began to carry more cages into the room and stack them on the others filled with little beast folk, fey, wild folk, and elf children. The new children began to cry out in terror as they are brought into the room, but the guards' faces remain emotionless. Neither one seemed to care about anything in the room. Simply carrying their cargo, placing it, and heading back out of the room before returning with another. This went on for a few minutes before anyone said anything else.

"As I have told you, when you finish the contract we have agreed to already, you may have the secret to opening the vault. As for your other requests, the answer to the third will unlock the first, and the second relates to the third. The trade goods you have provided are sufficient to grant you the answer to one of the three, or to provide you an item that could allow you to figure out the answers for yourself. Which will you choose?" The Night Trader proposes the choice, an impassive grin on his face belying false courtesy.

"The item shall suffice then." Aliester says, sounding defeated.

"Excellent choice," comes the raspy wheeze of the Night Trader as he snaps his fingers on his right hand and taps his cane on the ground. A flash of hellfire green flame erupts in his right hand and disappears as quickly as it arrived, leaving behind a strange stone and bronze statue in his hand.

The idol squatted atop his hand in a crude, strangely lewd placement, an obscenity against the laws of form and proportion, disturbingly lifelike for its small size, gleamed a tarnished copper in the dim light. Its figure was grotesquely anthropomorphic, yet the flabby corpulence suggested something far more alien than merely human. The head - a pulpy horror of squid-like tentacles writhing obscenely around a gaping maw - perched atop a bloated, scaly neck. Claws, both immense and wicked, tipped heavy, vaguely humanoid hands and feet, their size hinting at a power beyond mortal comprehension. Yet the most disturbing aspect were the odd things I can only think to call wings: leathery folds ribbed with monstrous veins, extending far above the grotesque figure, and hinting at an impossible freedom within depths beyond even the ocean's abyss.

The copper flesh seemed pitted and warped in places, fused with streaks of a disturbingly smooth, obsidian-like substance. This unknown, glassy black material formed the creature's vast, bat-like wings and the writhing mass of tentacles framing its hideous, maw-like face. The very stone of the statue seemed not of this earth. It was mottled and iridescent in the flickering candlelight, its surface almost...viscous. Tiny bubbles and imperfections swirled within the depths of the rock itself, forming and warping like malevolent eyes peering forth from the statue's form. The sense of age was oppressive, not merely of centuries, but of aeons stretching back to a time before sanity existed.

The statue's very presence seemed wrong, as if it was a splinter of a far greater, impossibly ancient being, forcibly squeezed into a form too small to comfortably contain it.  A subtle, nauseating warmth radiated from the stone and metal idol, hinting at an unholy source for its unnatural fusion.

Aliester tore his gaze away from the eldritch idol in the palm of the Night Trader to ask, "How do I use it?"

"In many ways, it is like your Orb of Class. Except you need to place it submerged in an alabaster bowl that has been prepared with saltwater blended with shellfish and the brain of a thinking soul. Then sleep with the bowl on the west side of your bed. Then you may call upon the teacher and ask three questions. If you ask the right questions, all you desire shall be yours." And with that final word, he tapped his cane on the ground again, a loud knocking sound resonated from the impact as well as a soft yellow-greenish white light fills the room. As it fades, Aliester finds himself alone in the room, only himself and on the ground in front of him sat the alien idol in the center of the circle. The cages empty, Aliester makes another arcane motion and the two guards from before return. 

"Return these cages to the covered wagon behind the manor. Then go home and forget any of this happened tonight. You had an uneventful night watch in the manor, as bored as you could be." Aliester tells the two guards, his eyes glowing with his magical will, the psychic spell's commands implanting themselves in the guards' consciousness and putting them into action following the plan laid out for them.

Aliester ignored them once he felt the spell take hold in them both and finished his commands. He swiftly scoops up the strange alien looking idol figure and strides confidently from the room. He marches purposefully to find a couple acolytes from the diviners college, any of the non-noble students will do for his needs. He simply needs to know what the right three questions he needs to ask are. And that will take someone else, skilled in the task of communing with magical intelligences to work out quickly. 'Besides, I can always wipe their memory or kill them if I must afterwards. I do need a fresh brain after-all.'

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When: 03.14.993 A.C. - 0213 hours F.C.T.
Where: in the sleeping quarters of Aliester Fordham on the upper floor of the west wing of Morinrayne Manor.
Who: Sir Aliester Fordham, Arcane Knight Commander of the Morinrayne Region Guard, as well as a shadowy man named Tomas Jeralt Crown, leader of one of the largest criminal groups in the region, The Devil's Due crew.

Aliester stepped through his chambers door carrying a bowl with a gruesome mixture within it to find the room not empty as he expected it to be. A sallow faced man with a lanky and wiry frame sat on a chair in the shadow covered corner of the room. His dark curls unkempt and wild, while his sleek black leather armor and cloak are in perfect order, with only a simple dark handled dagger on his waist.

"Is it that time again already," Aliester asks nonchalantly as he places the bowl on a vanity beside his bed. His back staying to the figure seated in the darkness. His hands slowly contorting into arcane motions long since practiced to perfection.

kh-schtnk, Came the sound of the shadowy man drawing his dagger, fluidly launching it flying towards Aliester's throat from behind where it meets his skull with flawless accuracy. Just as it reaches and is about to plunge inside its target though, a blue colored arcane shield flares to life around the wizard. The dagger ricochets into the nearby wall before disappearing and reappearing in the assassins sheath on his belt.

Aliester begins to turn to face the would be assassin, saying, "You will have to get up.. gl..ksh..glug.." His words interrupted by the cold feeling of an iron alloy assassins spike shoving up through his throat into his brain and being removed in a smooth motion, the body dropping to the floor unceremoniously. The shadowy man smiled to himself and thought, 'Good, now that problem is dealt with at least. Now I have killed the guard commander, I need only find this other crime lord, the Overseer. Eliminate him and the region is mine to control.' 

The assassin listened to the patrols of the guards in the halls, waiting for their next time to change who's on post again. He could leave out the window, but why take the hard way when there's plenty of hallways and rooms in this place to move about unseen, if you are patient. That's when he heard the whisper from behind him as bands of sickly yellow energy wrapped around his arms and torso, then jerked him backwards onto his back.

Aliester gets to his feet and stands above the now restrained would-be assassin. "Jeralt, I grow tired of this pattern. Especially when you actually stab me. We have to stop doing this. I can't have my best lieutenant killing me every couple of months. You work for me, but it's best if you don't know that." And with that he began to draw the energy for another spell to alter the man called Jeralt's memories again so he will serve Aliester's goals without knowing why. Then he gets an idea. He casts a message spell for his most trusted apprentice, an acolyte initiate of his Order he knows will freely swear himself to a magical vow of silence, calling him to his quarters. The acolyte sounds groggy but says he will be with Aliester shortly.

Aliester turns back to the spell he's been readying to cast on his captive audience and alters the memories to create a new story as he begins to explain his genius idea to the man watching in fear at this point. "You see, if I simply put things back the way they were, you will inevitably overcome the layers of suggestions and commands again in time and come right back to kill me just like we had tonight, and many others since I took over this region. You will still fail to kill me as you won't even remember why or that it didn't work this time. So, that sounds like a bad plan."

Aliester begins to get prepared for bed as he continues to talk, starting with taking the altar cloth wrapped idol from the folds of his robe and placing it on the vanity beside the prepared alabaster bowl. "It simply won't do for you to keep killing me. So I will have to elevate your position in the organization, or go ahead and eliminate you. But I do not believe anyone would answer truthfully under such an ultimatum."

"So instead I will have you think it was your idea to approach me tonight and attempt to force me into an agreement to give your group freedom to operate for a kickback. You think you discovered that I am secretly The Overseer and that you had proof and tried to use that  to force my hand. You got the drop on me and almost just killed me, but I offered you power and agreement to your deal. I will give you an Enchanted Key which you can use to open locks. And you will leave, thinking if you make a monthly payment to me that your group is free to operate in the shadows. You will believe I have ordered my acolyte to become your go between so you can communicate with me in secret. You will protect my acolyte as a precious resource."

Aliester's eyes were glowing with a yellow and purple psychic fire that pulsed as he spoke, an arcane form taking shape between the two as the energy in the room continued to rise with his concentration expanding the spell in scope and power. "As such, I'll need you to start raiding outside the borders more often, hitting the tribal settlements and beast folk hamlets, as I will need more slaves for the slave markets. I ran out of my stockpile and I do have things I need to buy. Remember only harm nonhumans, otherwise I will deal with whoever is responsible for it. The last thing any of us needs is one of your idiots harming the child of a noble that actually matters."

knock, knock, knock, knock 

"Enter," Aliester says in a tone to not interrupt his complex spellcasting. Without surprise, it is the acolyte he sent for, Ben Rhynehorn. The acolyte looks at the complex weave of mana and psychic energy in front of the archwizard and remains silent after closing the door behind himself. Aliester continues speaking to the restrained man on the floor below him, "This is your new contact point with me Jeralt, his name is Ben, and you will keep him safe for me. You are now my new spymaster, and you are to remain undercover and achieve the goals we have discussed while you await further correspondence from me."

With that Aliester sent the spell to deeply root itself in the mind of Jeralt. In a moment he was unconscious as the spell went to work reordering his memories and placing the new ones to support this new story forming in ways that his own mind will find the most believable. Aliester looked to his acolyte as he released concentration on the restraining spell, "Get him out of here safely, unseen if possible. Down to the wagon behind the manor near the north atrium entrance, the one with cages on it. Pay no mind to the pair of guards that might be still loading cages onto the wagon. They will not remember seeing you if you encounter them. Then go about your daily business as normally, if he contacts you relay any message to me."

The acolyte hadn't even seen the archwizard gathering the mana for that spell, but as soon as he said, "Yes Master," a flash of light filled the room as a spark of psychic energy passed from Aliester to the acolytes mind and sealed his own agreement to his part in this plan. Ben Rhynehorn, the noble scion of the Rhynehorn family and acolyte of the Ordum Arcaniu Neopsis blinked and looked at Aliester then down to Jeralt. He kneels down next to him and pulls him up to a standing position. He speaks an incantation known by most first year wizard students and conjures an Unseen Servant to help him carry the man outside. In moments they are out the door to Aliesters chambers and he sighs.

"Finally," he speaks before moving to his vanity and uncovering the idol. He places it into the gruesome mixture of saltwater, shellfish, and the brains of an unfortunate acolyte that had been up too late and available to assist him. Then takes the parchment left by the Night Trader and speaks the incantation aloud, "Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn." With that he climbs into bed and goes to sleep as the idol emits a faintly pulsing ethereal green light onto the walls and ceiling of the room.

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When: 03.14.993 A.C. - 0253 hours F.C.T.
Where: north side atrium entrance near the west wing of Morinrayne Manor.
Who: Ben Rhynehorn and Tomas Jeralt Crown

Ben struggles to shove the sleeping man onto the coach seat of the wagon, even with the help of his arcane assistant spell. The man stirs in his slumber as Ben tries to lift his hips up into the seat, and grabs hold of the seat as he becomes groggily awake and aware of his position.

In a blink Jeralt hooks his foot inside Ben's knee and sweeps as he rolls off the edge of the wagon and onto his feet, rotation carrying through into a motion that results in him standing knee pressed to Ben's prone form and his dagger at the acolytes throat. 

Ben's eyes widen in terror, "I'm here to help, please sir!"

Jeralt blinks, "Ben? What happened?" His tone alarmed as recognition of the man below his blade registers in his waking mind. He withdraws the blade and looks around, noticing it was his own wagon, full of his cargo cages but they were all empty. 

"You were wrapping up a business arrangement with Master Aliester when I was summoned, and informed I was to serve as your intermediary and message correspondent for your business with the master. I do have my regular daily duties to the academy, but I can check in and work outside that time as you need. Where should I go to do so, sir?" Ben asked, thinking quickly.

Jeralt takes a long look at Ben's face, nods and says, "Yes, now I'm clearing up the foggy brain. Well, you can find me at the Wicked Brewery most evenings. Don't leave messages for me."

"Yes sir, I shall do so, err.. I mean I will not leave messages but will check in with you there regularly." Ben said, waiting to be sent away.

"Good, now stop standing around, go let the guard at the gate know I'm clear to leave on Sir Aliester's orders." Jeralt barks at him and he scrambles away to do as told.

"Weak willed boy that one is," Jeralt comments, chuckles to himself, and disengages the wagon's brake. "Giddyup," he calls as he whips the reins to get started moving towards the gates of High Town down to Midtown. 'I need some breakfast, something good, maybe I stop and see if Margie is wearing something nice today and serving breakfast at Ash-Hill Gearworks before I head out of town?' And with that thought he smiles and pulls up to the gates to Midtown.

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When: 03.14.993 A.C. - 0255 hours F.C.T.
Where: north side of the Lake at The ElderWild.
Who: Saerae of The Endless Dream, one of the species of beings known on Changing Stars as Cthonic Cats, though they loathe that name

I can feel a hole in the wild chaos of the dreaming lands, and through it I feel something escape. That will not do, the nightmares that hide here are my playthings, and I will not let them run free from me. 

'THEY ARE MINE' came the mental scream of Saerae. His lithe form slinking through the ever shifting folds of this region of the Dreaming Lands, could feel it slipping through a hole into another realm. He leapt through after the playthings.

He sputtered as he emerged through the rift into water. Rage boiled up inside him as he channeled his will to float him up to walk upon its surface. He looked about the dark night with only a pair of moons and shifting stars lighting the area. He opened his senses scanning the lake's surface waters for his playthings. He could sense something chaotic below, but it was not what he was looking for.

An amassing glob of tentacled leeches clinging together to form a larger shape shambles up out of the water on the western shoreline. They are moving towards a house lit by fluorescent lighting.

Saerae senses them, seeing the glob moving towards the house, it steps out of this material realm and into the Sideways, a corridor of between space beside the rest of the multiverse, mostly only used by spirits or those psionic beings like his kind which knew of it. Saerae however was using it to gain advantageous position on the playthings. He stepped back to reality with his playthings approaching him from below. He crouched from the roof of the house, preparing to attack, when all the sudden a strange creature from a tree nearby dropped onto the playthings and began hissing and scratching and biting with a fury that impressed Saerae. He tried to sense it's magical power, and didn't sense any to speak of.

It's cries of feline fury cut short as the leech monsters turned their attention from walking forward towards the attacker clinging to their collected form. Saerae couldn't let it die, he pounced the playthings, his mighty paws extending their claws and shattering the cohesive form the creatures were straining to hold together. Little bits of some of them went flying apart from their bodies as they scattered to the ground, the attacking cat forgotten and ignored as it began to fall towards the ground with them. Saerae deftly shifted a paw to catch the wounded cat. His feet began smashing the playthings fleeing on the ground as fast as he could. The cat wasn't breathing, casting his senses within the little feline he can feel the mindrot from the playthings was spreading fast, he could not heal it here in the real world. He quickly scans the ground, seeing no more movement, he runs for the rift he arrived through. Leaping through as fast as he can, he feels the energies of the Dreaming Lands begin to swirl and surge as he rolls back through his Dream Garden. He Breathes the Dreaming into this little cat, and feels the energy of the dreaming begin to eat the mindrot from the plaything.

The little cat sleeps, its breathing easing. Saerae sighs. He will have to let it rest so he can send it home after the mindrot has been fully destroyed or it will just feed on this noble little cat to become more of the plaything race. This poor thing wouldn't be at risk had he not given in to his urge to keep his food and play with it so long. Now it was squished into the dirt instead of food and this poor creature nearly lost its life. 

Saerae watches it sleep, and thinks to himself, 'I grant you a measure of my power, as a token of my apology.' And with that, a tentacle from among those covering its mouth extended out and touched the forehead of the sleeping black and white cat, tiny in size with a slightly swollen stomach, and an indigo energy passes along the tendril into the cats forehead. Like a seed taking root it begins to grow roots and softly flow tiny pulses of the indigo energy out through the body of the little cat named by her human as, 'Baby Queen' even though he only ever called her Baby or Babygirl in front of other humans.

[...]

She was dreaming of when she was still young enough he would still hold her in his arms. She was too dignified to let him pick her up anymore, but she still dreamed of those days, of the warmth of his chest and the calming rhythm of his heart beating inside it. She loved her human, he had given her safety, and the freedom to claim his whole domain as her own. Well, hers and the dogs that lived in the house that is. She didn't dislike them, but they were loud and stink.

Then the dream turned, day became night, and she was curled to sleep in one of the trees she liked to sleep in. She heard something terrible sounding approaching, the hair along the back of her neck and spine all standing on end as she sensed real danger in the scent on the air. She looks around and sees the thing moving towards her house. Her babies are sleeping on the porch, well, her babies from her last two litters that is. The new litter is still growing in her belly. 

She waits as it moves under the tree and drops onto what looks like its head. Her warcry loud and proud as she claws and bites at it with everything she has. She feels it wrap around her and squeeze, little stinging bites all along where it touches, and it feels cold. The cold races in behind the stinging feeling and it's like her lungs don't want to work, she feels darkness swirling in around her vision, everything begins to swirl. 

Bleakness closes in, everything fading away from her eyes, she feels her babies in her belly struggling, and she tries to cry, but can't. As she is slipping away, and then she feels a warmth at last, like she is back in his arms as a little kitten. Her human, she sees his face in her dream and expects it all to end. But it doesn't, he just smiles down at her and pets her. Each pet sending ripples of warmth and love through her little form. She curls into him and goes to sleep.

[...]

Saerae looks at the little sleeping cat dream of its time as a kitten with a human it bonded with. He's a little surprised at the love he feels in the memory turned dreaming. His experience with humans had never shown him one that had the capacity to care for a lesser life form the way this cat believed its human did. 'I shall watch you through your dreams little one, I would like to learn more about your friend and you. But for now, the mindrot is cleared from your system, it is time to take you home so you can wake up before you join the Dreaming Lands for good.'

And with that he lifts the small cat into his manetacles and carries it back through the rift. He climbs into the tree he'd first seen the cat pounce from and rests its sleeping form where a branch comes off the trunk. As he climbs down, he senses something on the air. He goes back to the rift, speaks an incantation and scratches a series of sweeping and elegant sigils in the air as he pours psionic energy into them, activating the ward and preventing the continued leaking of the energy of his realm within the Dreaming Lands into the material realm here at this lake. 

After completing his ritual, he inspects his work. Satisfied it will seal the leak, he casts his sense out and smells something ancient, something long since sleeping beneath the oceans of the Dreaming Lands. It smells of anchovies and dead shellfish. 'He's still dead, why is his influence here in this place?' Saerae, the ancient enemy of the slumbering one beneath the ocean wondered to himself. That's the moment the deer staggered into view nearby. It's face split open as it looked at Saerae, a tentacle snaked out of the cavity and whipped into Saerae's shoulder slicing clean to the bone. The mindrot poison identifying the culprit to him instantly, but not strong enough to overcome his own psychic resistance.

Saerae pounces onto the creature and rips its head off. His paw thrusts into the brain cavity quickly with claws extended, fishing out a disgusting tentacled leach-like creature. He snaps his jaws around its little head biting it clean off. Then swallows before chewing up the rest. He looks down at the deer carcass, "No need to be wasteful." He leans down and begins cleaning the flesh off the bones of the beast with gusto, slurping up all the juices and licking the bones clean.

"Better make sure I didn't miss any more of them," Saerae says, stalking off into the woods to look for traces of more of the little creatures. 'This is going to be a long night.'

[...]
When: 03.14.993 A.C. - 0405 hours F.C.T.
Where: southeast edge of Morinrayne village along Tradeway Road.
Who: Darshal the Dealer, a local fence and General Goods merchant

Darshal the Dealer strode into his home on the southeast of the village just inside the treeline, he moved angrily more than anything as he moved around the room. He had no clue what had just happened, only that he had lost his whole crew just minutes ago. He slammed the jar he'd clutched in his paw onto his table. The little creature inside the jar writhing angrily at the violent motion. It's worm-like body lined in tentacles that end in little spikes, running the length of its body, with an ugly yellow-green multifaceted eye on the end. "What are you little monster?" Asked the wererat as he shapeshifted back to his human form and sat in a simple wooden chair to stare into the jar at the tiny nightmare monster.

Darshal took a long breath and let his battle-readiness begin to relax. He could feel the wounds he'd sustained were healed already thanks to his supernatural abilities. The strange little monster in the jar slammed at the sides, a bone like needle flashing out of it's body into the glass with a tinking noise punctuating its anger. One of his men, named Joh'xr, had begun to act strangely as they had feasted on their prey after their hunt.

The next thing they knew he was ripping through the rest of them in a fury. In only a couple seconds he'd gone from twitching oddly and Sascha leaning over so she could check on him to him biting her throat out as he ripped her head from her shoulders and sent it flying away. Pa'Xul raged and slayed the infected Joh'xr, only to have that strange monster come slithering up his own arm and burrowing inside him. He twitched and then attacked Pavyl and Launtrea. The rat swarm loyal to Launtrea tried to counterattack Pa'Xul, biting and clawing at his flesh to rip chunks away. Pa'Xul ignored them as it finished slaying Pavyl by ripping the arm that is currently slinging claws his direction out at the shoulder, blood spraying from the wound as Pa'Xul stabbed the arm through Pavyl's throat and then reached his clawed paw into Launtrea's chest and shredded her heart. Darshal sliced his head off in that moment. The monster leapt towards him from the head as it rolled away. He rolled aside and scrambled for his pack, grabbing a jar from it and opened the cork. He readied for the creature to leap at him again, and as it did, he activated his supernatural speed and captured it in the jar.

He heard a branch snap just then as a deer broke through a line of brush and revealed itself. It lurched towards him and he saw the injuries to its body as it continued towards him, its murderous intent clear. He struck it down as it neared him with his sword, only to see another of the creatures leap onto his blade and begin sliding up it. He hurled the sword away and held his grip, trying to sling it off the flat of the blade. Instead it leapt towards his face, he rolled away just in time for it to miss. Another monster leapt from the brushline this time, like a large black lion like creature, but it's mane was a nest of medusa like tentacles. It roared and the little worm writhed in apparent pain.

Darshal knew this was the time to bolt and did so with all his supernatural speed. Paws clutching the jar, he ran as fast as he was capable away from the big cat, leaving as confusing a trail as he could with his survival instincts turned-to-the-max as they were naturally after an encounter like that. He ran until he found himself sitting in his house at his table staring at the little worm monster and replaying the nights events in his mind on a loop.