The March on Icewall: Entry 23

These events take place before Rise of the Obsidian Legion.

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #108

All I see is red.

Thick and heavy.

Hard to breath.

Something grabs me by my hair. In a panic I wipe the wet clay from my face and suck in the putrid air around me. Quickly clearing my eyes to find myself wishing I had not. Many frog like men surround me.

With spears pointed at me I do not understand their croaking but there is no doubt it is a threat. They laugh as others come up to smear the clay into my face.

From behind I am slammed to the cold muck by two of them. All around the trees are covered with moss as a thin fog rolls around their trunks. A low canopy hangs above us. Seeing my toes I realized I am striped naked.

Females kneel at my left and right. Mixing the clay with bright colors, they begin to cover my body with strange markings. When they begin a low, cracked moan comes from all who witness.

What in the Nine Hells is going on?

Pulling me to my feet, they bind my hands behind me with tight vines. They nudge me forward with the end of their spears. With my first step the females go into a craze, dancing and throwing their bodies in ecstasy.

The frogmen before me part as the ugliest of them approaches. In one hand he holds a skull. An awful, brown smoke pours from it, the source of the putrid stench. In the other is a wicked stick. The skeleton of an eel winds up it. In its mouth is a huge black pearl. Deep within it a see something slither.

Across his back is a cloak of fish scales that shine from the moonlight creeping through the canopy. On his head is an enormous fish skull with a strange marking, a religious symbol of some sort.

This must be their chieftain.

The frogman blows the smoke into my face. I hold my breath before it reaches me but it does not work. One of the frogmen hits me hard in the gut causing me to take a big gulp of air. The putrid fumes quickly affect me, making my head swivel as I begin to feel drowsy.

The chief turns to walk away. Being too weak to defend myself, a shove from behind moves me forward.

The low, cracked moaning is all I can hear.

Swamp gives way to sand as we arrive on a beach. As far as the eye can see is a black, motionless sea. Clouds cover the night sky, allowing little light from the full moon. Not far in the shallows is a large flat rock with a small, stone pillar sticking up.

The frogmen push me forward, tossing me upon the stone as we reach it. With more vines they latch me to the pillar. I try with all my strength to fight them off but my body does not follow my commands. The poison’s hold on me is too strong to overcome.

Thick clouds part and the moonlight shines directly on me. As it does the croaking grows faster. The cracking becomes wilder. All around me the males and females begin rolling in the muddy sand, throwing themselves at each other in gross, sexual acts.

The brown smoke rolls over my shoulders as I hear the chieftain’s feet slapping the wet stone from behind me. His chanting and croaks turn to gibberish as the poison affects my mind. Then I realize the poison is not changing his voice.

I know that language!

Fear rushes up within. I try to thrash and pull but I am too weak to break my bonds. The pounding of my heart is loud in my ears.

Far out in the inky sea a wake forms, rushing in our direction. From it comes a large dorsal fin. The frogmen’s excitement grows at the sight.

A giant’s length in front of me the water burst into a spray of darkness. From it rolls and sprawls a mass of slimy tentacles the width of sailing boats. The gibberish fills my mind with madness as a defeating screech comes from the unspeakable horror before me.

Two scrawny and bony arms sprout from the thing at the sides. Rising from the middle of the tentacles is a gargantuan eel like body. It’s mouth if full of needle shaped teeth the size of spears.

My brain itches as I can feel it probing my mind.

I do all I can to scream as one hand reaches out for me, breaking my bonds as it pulls me forward. All I hear is the frantic croaks of the frogmen as this horror slowly drags me into the inky blackness.

The croaks give away to splashing of waves as the cold water rises up to take me.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.