With the decision made, the beastkin wasted no ti preparing to leave their holand. There was little to gather as most of their possession had to be left behind with the fear that most of the things had already been tainted with the plague. After gathering every thing of importance into a safe storage space, they were finally ready to move, bringing with them only their carts, clothes, and perhaps jewelry. Those who were strong enough helped the weak onto the carts and wagons. The sorrow of leaving their ancestral lands behind weighed heavily on them, but survival ca first.
Lance had Rikka return hastily ahead of them to have their people work to prepare and area to receive the beastkin. They were to set up temporary shelters and create a safe periter near the goblin territory. Though he had healed them, he couldn't take any chances. If the disease resurfaced, it had to be contained, if not the consequences would be devastating.
Rusak stood at the periters, his towering figure tense with restrained fury. His mane, usually full of life, seed dull under the eerie atmosphere. He clenched his fists as he surveyed his people, once proud and powerful, now reduced to this.
Lance, standing beside him, noticed the tension in Rusak's body, which was understandable. "Once we find a way to purify the land, your people will reclaim their ho."
Rusak exhaled sharply through his nose, his deep voice rumbling. "So I believe too."
The two leaders exchanged a brief look of understanding before turning back to the people. The journey ahead would not be easy for Rusak indeed.
Their march was slow. Most of them were still weak despite Lance's healing, finding themselves fatigued from the ordeal. The deeper they traveled away from the blighted land, the more their surroundings seed to return to normal, lush trees, clean air, and the familiar sounds of nature.
Lance and Rusak led the way, the few scouts active keeping watch for any potential threats. The lands between the beastkin territory and the goblin-controlled region were largely uninhabited, but they couldn't afford to take chances.
By the ti they reached the outskirts of the goblin settlent, night had fallen. Torches lined the defensive periter, and dozens of goblin, orc and beastkin warriors stood around. They had already been ordered not to approach the new beastkin as the plague could have lingered in or around them, so the groups remained separated.
Rikka stepped forward to greet Lance. "Chief," she said, bowing slightly at Rusak in acknowledgent. "We've prepared an area for the refugees. Tents, food, and water are ready, and we've set up a quarantine zone as you requested."
Lance nodded in approval. "Good. Ensure that no one enters or leaves the quarantine zone without my direct order. If any show signs of the sickness again, it should be reported to imdiately."
Rikka acknowledged the order before rushing off to relay instructions.
The beastkin were directed toward the prepared shelters. They moved with tired relief, finally able to rest after days of suffering.
Rusak watched as his people settled in. His expression remained unreadable, but Lance could sense the weight he carried.
Lance crossed his arms. "They'll be safe here." He said, extending a hand which he placed on his comrade's back.
Rusak let out a low growl, frustration evident. "I know." Just then, he felt the familiar feeling of Lance's healing magic spread through him. In understanding, he lowered his head slightly, thanking Lance.
Lance exhaled and turned his gaze toward the distant horizon, where the cursed land still lood like a wound on the world. "We need to deal with the source of this poison."
Rusak's ears twitched slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing. "We need to find that demon and hunt it down."
Unease gnawed at Lance even then. If the demon had devastated the beastkin lands without even attacking directly, there was no guarantee it wouldn't target the goblins next, and even worse, that it already wasn't.
The next morning, after ensuring the beastkin were properly cared for, Lance and Rusak gathered a team of elite warriors and the scouts who had been task with finding the dragon were asked to drop their search for the dragon. Finding the demon took priority. The goblin settlent had to be protected at all costs.
The day went by without much happening, and even by night ti, there had been no news from the party put in charge of searching for the demon, neither had they returned. The following morning, the scouts returned.
Their expressions alone told Lance everything he needed to know.
"We found sothing," one of them reported, kneeling before him. "A cave deep in the forest. Inside, there's a massive cocoon, nothing like anything we've seen before. Given the signs of corruption in the area, we're almost certain the demon is inside."
'A cocoon?' Lance thought to himself. If the demon was resting, then that was their best chance.
He turned to Rusak, seeing that the lion beastkin was thinking along the sa lines as he was. "We can't waste ti."
Rusak nodded. "We attack now."
Without hesitation, they began assembling their strongest warriors.
Rusak called upon his best fighters, the orcs, ever eager for battle, joined in without even having to be asked, ready to test their might against the demon.
Lance gathered his own forces, Lia, Rynne, Zarra, Dran, and Rikka.
With their combined power, they would ensure the demon didn't live another day… at least, that was their intention going forward.
The party moved swiftly through the forest, guided by the scouts. The distance itself was one of a journey there, as they didn't arrive until the ti was close to midday.
After the travel, they finally reached their destination, treading as quietly as possible. A massive cave lood ahead, its entrance dark and foreboding. The stench that emanated from within was enough to make even the orcs grimace. Inside, pulsating with a sickly, unnatural glow, was the cocoon.
It was enormous, nearly twice the height of an orc, its surface covered in thick, fleshy layers that seed to twitch and shift in a sluggish manner. The air around it felt wrong, as if rely standing near it was enough to invite negative effects.
Lance felt a shiver crawl down his spine when he looked closely at it, it really resembled sothing out of a horror alien movie.
"We're destroying it now," he said. "Before whatever's inside wakes up." He then turned to Lia, "Lia."
At Lance's command, Lia stepped forward while everyone went behind her. Raising her staff, she focused, casting the fire spell, flas gathering in front of her, and within monts, a massive fireball, easily the size of a boulder ford.
With a sharp motion, she hurled it forward.
The fireball went straight for its target, slamming into the cocoon, engulfing it in flas. The impact sent a little shockwave through the cave, the heat searing the air.
Before the flas could settle, the warriors launched their spears, piercing the burning cocoon from all sides and pushing deep before pulling back.
For a mont, nothing happened… then, a deep, sickening crack split through the air.
The cocoon shuddered, its outer shell peeling away in wet, slithering chunks, the type of sight that would make any man's stomach churn. Sothing was moving inside.
Lance's grip tightened on his sword. "Everyone, get ready."
With a final, grotesque rip, the cocoon split open. A figure rose from within, its full self obscured by the darkness of the cave, those outside didn't get a clear look until it stepped into the light.
It was tall, easily over ten feet, its emaciated body wrapped in tight, decayed skin that barely clung to its bones. Its face was monstrous, hollow eyes bulging unnaturally from its skull. Its jaw hung open in an unnatural way, rows of needle-like teeth glistening.
Two skeletal wings unfurled from its back, their leathery mbranes torn and riddled with holes. Its arms, abnormally long, stretched past its knees, clawed fingers twitching sluggishly .
A low, guttural sound rumbled from its throat, then, without warning, its mouth opened wide.
From deep within its rotting body, a thick cloud of black ash spewed forth, spreading through the cave like a living mist.
"Fall back!" Lance shouted.
The warriors who had impaled it scattered, avoiding the creeping smoke, all except one, an orc, slower than the rest. He was just slow enough to be caught within the range of the ash and inhaled the it, or perhaps, it was because it touched him.
The effect was rapid and almost imdiate. His skin blackened, bubbling as it withered away. His eyes turned milky, blood leaking from every pore. He staggered forward, reaching toward the others for help, but no one dared touch him.
Within minutes, his body collapsed.
What remained of him was barely recognizable—a pile of rotting flesh, rapidly decomposing as if he had been dead for weeks.
A chill ran through the group as they witnessed this death, realising just how dangerous this demon was.
The demon let out a sharp, chittering sound, its hollow eyes rolling wildly as it took a step forward.
Its presence alone was a sickness, a plague given form.
Lance took a stance first, thinking of how to deal with such an enemy. "No one breathe that smoke in." He said, almost stating the obvious, "and don't get in contact either, we don't want to find out what happens when that happens.
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