Skrog's attention became erratic; it bounced around from person to person in the mob of angry humans and elves that encroached on him.
"This is not necessary, friends-" Skrog began but was quickly cut off.
"Friends!?" Some faceless voice called out from a place in the mob Skrog couldn't see. "What kinda friend let's ya' beat 'em over th' 'ead with a staff!?"
Several grunts of agreement came from the mob. Skrog glanced behind him, the mob was shrinking. He felt like his air was being slowly sucked out of him as his pulse quickened. He knew time was running out, if he didn't act now he'd be a huddled pile of broken green meat by day break.
He dug his hand into his pouch, nothing was in it. He was out of options, he'd have to make a run for it. He took a step toward a nearby alleyway and the mob lunged at him all at once like some kind of grotesque amoeba shrinking in on its prey.
A loud communal roar broke out from the mob as they came for him. He made eye contact with a disheveled looking human with shaggy hair and a young beard.
"Sorry, kid." Skrog thought to himself. "But you're in my way."
In a flash Skrog brought his staff up like a lance and charged at the young bearded man, one hand holding the staff near his armpit and the other fully extended in front of him. As he braced for impact his extended hand grasped the staff firmly. The young bearded man's eye grew wide once he realized what was coming, but it was too late by then. The staff collided with his chest and pushed him backward. As Skrog's pace quickened the young bearded man fell on his back. The rest of the mob closed in like water, but Skrog had all the room he needed. It wasn't a pretty escape, but it was an escape. In this moment, that was all Skrog wanted.
Skrog skipped over the fallen young bearded man and sprinted toward the alleyway. Trash and sludge colored the corners of the walls in jagged looking triangles. The cobblestone floor was slimy and glistened in the low light. The buildings on either side were boarded up and seemed forgotten.
Skrog kept his eyes forward as he sprinted. In his mind the mob was just a millimeter behind him waiting for him to slow down so they could tear him apart. This fear made his feet move faster.
He rounded a sloppy bend in the alleyway as it connected to another, a stray dog fled in terror from him. With each hard step Skrog's breath was growing more rough, like his lungs were slowly turning to sandpaper. Each gasp for new air felt like fire and Skrog's skin tingled with electric sweat.
He rounded another bend.
Then he saw that he was running toward a canal.
Several smaller canals ran throughout the districts like spiderwebs. These canals were used to by traders to move product easily. A boat cost less than a cart or wagon and the traders never needed pack animals. The problem with the canals was of course, their limited course and narrowness. Once Skrog jumped into the canal the mob would know exactly where he was headed and could cut him off by running ahead. But this was Skrog's only choice.
Something blurred in front of him. In an instant he saw a massive wolf, known as a warg, land in the alleyway just before the canal. Instinct kicked in and Skrog slid on one knee beneath the beast. As he slid underneath the warg he turned and saw the mob trying to stop itself. It did.
Skrog stopped just before falling into the canal. He dug his free hand into the grimy cobblestone and used it as an anchor.
The warg growled and several people in the mob screamed. They slowly moved backward as the warg took a step toward them. Then it howled and the mob tore off in the direction they had come faster than Skrog could understand.
Then the warg turned to Skrog.
"You idiot." A voice inside Skrog's head said. It was feminine but in no way delicate. It was a low, beastly voice. "Now how are we going to fix this?"
"I'm sorry, I just-" Skrog tried to say.
"Stop!" The voice screamed as the warg barked. "This is unforgivable."
"Vola, I'm sorry!" Skrog pleaded. "I couldn't help myself."
"Well, you're going to need to start." The voice inside his head said. "We'll be thrown out of this town too now."
"I won't let that happen." Skrog said as he got to his feet. "I'll take care of us."
The warg turned around and began to slowly walk back down the alleyway.
"And I'll end up taking care of you, as always." There was still a harshness in the voice that Skrog took as a scolding, but there was also an air of forgiveness that made Skrog smile. "Let's go to the old man before this gets out of control."
"Okay." Skrog said and rushed to walk by Vola's side.
-Jestro
"This is not necessary, friends-" Skrog began but was quickly cut off.
"Friends!?" Some faceless voice called out from a place in the mob Skrog couldn't see. "What kinda friend let's ya' beat 'em over th' 'ead with a staff!?"
Several grunts of agreement came from the mob. Skrog glanced behind him, the mob was shrinking. He felt like his air was being slowly sucked out of him as his pulse quickened. He knew time was running out, if he didn't act now he'd be a huddled pile of broken green meat by day break.
He dug his hand into his pouch, nothing was in it. He was out of options, he'd have to make a run for it. He took a step toward a nearby alleyway and the mob lunged at him all at once like some kind of grotesque amoeba shrinking in on its prey.
A loud communal roar broke out from the mob as they came for him. He made eye contact with a disheveled looking human with shaggy hair and a young beard.
"Sorry, kid." Skrog thought to himself. "But you're in my way."
In a flash Skrog brought his staff up like a lance and charged at the young bearded man, one hand holding the staff near his armpit and the other fully extended in front of him. As he braced for impact his extended hand grasped the staff firmly. The young bearded man's eye grew wide once he realized what was coming, but it was too late by then. The staff collided with his chest and pushed him backward. As Skrog's pace quickened the young bearded man fell on his back. The rest of the mob closed in like water, but Skrog had all the room he needed. It wasn't a pretty escape, but it was an escape. In this moment, that was all Skrog wanted.
Skrog skipped over the fallen young bearded man and sprinted toward the alleyway. Trash and sludge colored the corners of the walls in jagged looking triangles. The cobblestone floor was slimy and glistened in the low light. The buildings on either side were boarded up and seemed forgotten.
Skrog kept his eyes forward as he sprinted. In his mind the mob was just a millimeter behind him waiting for him to slow down so they could tear him apart. This fear made his feet move faster.
He rounded a sloppy bend in the alleyway as it connected to another, a stray dog fled in terror from him. With each hard step Skrog's breath was growing more rough, like his lungs were slowly turning to sandpaper. Each gasp for new air felt like fire and Skrog's skin tingled with electric sweat.
He rounded another bend.
Then he saw that he was running toward a canal.
Several smaller canals ran throughout the districts like spiderwebs. These canals were used to by traders to move product easily. A boat cost less than a cart or wagon and the traders never needed pack animals. The problem with the canals was of course, their limited course and narrowness. Once Skrog jumped into the canal the mob would know exactly where he was headed and could cut him off by running ahead. But this was Skrog's only choice.
Something blurred in front of him. In an instant he saw a massive wolf, known as a warg, land in the alleyway just before the canal. Instinct kicked in and Skrog slid on one knee beneath the beast. As he slid underneath the warg he turned and saw the mob trying to stop itself. It did.
Skrog stopped just before falling into the canal. He dug his free hand into the grimy cobblestone and used it as an anchor.
The warg growled and several people in the mob screamed. They slowly moved backward as the warg took a step toward them. Then it howled and the mob tore off in the direction they had come faster than Skrog could understand.
Then the warg turned to Skrog.
"You idiot." A voice inside Skrog's head said. It was feminine but in no way delicate. It was a low, beastly voice. "Now how are we going to fix this?"
"I'm sorry, I just-" Skrog tried to say.
"Stop!" The voice screamed as the warg barked. "This is unforgivable."
"Vola, I'm sorry!" Skrog pleaded. "I couldn't help myself."
"Well, you're going to need to start." The voice inside his head said. "We'll be thrown out of this town too now."
"I won't let that happen." Skrog said as he got to his feet. "I'll take care of us."
The warg turned around and began to slowly walk back down the alleyway.
"And I'll end up taking care of you, as always." There was still a harshness in the voice that Skrog took as a scolding, but there was also an air of forgiveness that made Skrog smile. "Let's go to the old man before this gets out of control."
"Okay." Skrog said and rushed to walk by Vola's side.
-Jestro
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