Night of Sorrow: Midnight Madness

---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ------ ----

Terence was was awakened by strange noises outside his home, at first he tried to ignore them. They got louder, nearer, and then they seemed to move into his stable. Terence was a shoe- fitter for the many horses that made their way to the King's City. He wondered if the noise was that of an animal, but then he heard words. He wondered if it was a brigand or thief, but then he thought it might be a victim of those self-same evils. Finally he left the warmth of his bed and, carrying a lantern and knife, entered his stable.

Terence was not brave, he nearly froze when he saw the man. The man's face was a bloody mess and his eyes... no more. Terence brought water and bandages and whiskey, as well as his sons to help. All the while the man murmured and screamed, alternating between bouts of madness. Yet Terence saw that this man was a Guardsman, older though he might be. And the scarred Guardsman spoke of a terrible message, he spoke of broken dolls and chained demons, of werewolves and dead horses.

Terence had his eldest son run to the nearest platform-on-the-wall, soon another guard was present in the stable, and then another and another. Though it took time, these guards made their way to the inner wall with the intention of making their way to the Constabulary where they would make their report and allow the poor babbling Harv to speak again the grissly riddle. Upon reaching the wall and the side gate, however, they saw the battered gate-house and saw the blood of yet another of their own...

---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ------ ----

Fiezwer was a gentle soul. He had spent the better half of his life as a caretaker to the House of Rham & Rhom, to the Quadrodome. He liked it here, it was mostly quiet, except on the Festival days, but the Siblings had surprisingly less festive days than did other deities. Fiezwer smiled, it was his belief that the divine Siblings were too busy defending Allaria to spend time in gawdy carnivals and parades. He noticed the stranger enter and rushed to meet him at the doorway, as was his custom to greet all who entered this holy house.

The shoggoth could smell the man approaching him, it sensed the gentleness about him. Ths shoggoth smiled, it would be very gratifying to kill such an innocent.

"Favor and strength to you," said Fiezwer.

The shoggoth made no reply.

"It is late, you must be tired," said Fiezwer trying to read the strange man.

"Show me the altar," commanded the shoggoth.

Fiezwer took the stranger to the altar not realizing the danger he was in. "How beautiful it is," said Fiezwer. The man's thoughts went to the harvest feasts and how the priests and priestesses take a young bull and slaughter it upon that altar, he looked at the red stains and re-envisioned with joy the blood of the sacrifice draining and how it was collected and given to all believers as a drink of the gods.

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," murmered the shoggoth.

"What did you say?" asked Fiezwer, slowly coming out of his reverie. "Did you--"

A chain burst forth from the side of the shoggoth and wrapped itself about the man's neck, then another about the man's waist. He was lifted bodily up into the air and then brought down hard upon the stone altar. The shoggoth pulled out a longknife from its sleeve and pricked Fiezwer's ear, it began to bleed.

The terrified man could barely make a sound, the chain about his neck not permitting much but breathing. A faint breath, perhaps the word please, passed through trembling lips but this was met with laughter by the unholy beast.

"Altars are for holocausts," said the shoggoth. "Are you a believer?" Fiezwer's eyes widened as if they were going to burst. "Your gods are shit to me," continued the shoggoth. "Your kings are shit to me. I shall be your ruler soon, I shall reign in this place and the people will see true power! Allaria will go the way of other forgotten realms." A faraway look crossed the shoggoth's eyes, a brief moment. Then it cut Fiezwer as if he were a bull or a lamb, it carved into him like he was a chicken or a goose, it disemboweled him and made odd designs with the intestines, it smeared the man's feces, it bathed in the blood. And it laughed, a most queer and disturbing sound. A sound that would've frozen Fiezwer's heart, if he still had a heart to freeze, but that dead muscle was now impaled on a statue standing in the east corner of the Quadrodome. And it seemed as if the laughter just wouldn't stop...

1. Guardsmen: dead, alive, & mad
2. the Shoggoth continues its devlish delight...

Go Back

View Forward Story Tree
View Back Story Tree