The Druid - #3

The stench grew stronger as he approached the gathering storm clouds. A malignant odor so vile it burnt his lungs with each breath the elf turned wolf breathed hung in the air.

It had been close to three hours since he'd set off from his grove to investigate this most unnatural presence that had suddenly appeared up north.

As he approached the dark clouds, he caught sight of the source of the gloom.

Miles away, moved a silhouette of monstrous proportions. The bulky aberration lumbered along slowly, its huge stocky legs rocking the very ground with every step it took. Giant flaming vermillion eyes stared intently, radiating an aura of deathly cold hatred that sapped the life out of everything it touched.

The druid stopped in his tracks. A low menacing growl escaped his lips as he stared at the oncoming monster. Nothing stopped the creature or even seemed to slow it down. Trees fell, birds flew and creatures that could not escape were crushed under the weight of the monster or choked in the evil stench it exhuded.

The druid bowed down and sniffed the ground. With eyes closed, he opened his mind to the world sending his senses out of his body, merging with the very earth he touched.

He could see and sense the abomination more clearly now. The vile creature's deathly stench brought him to the point of almost puking. Its touch scalded the earth and sapped the life out of the ground it stood on. Its ebony skin was a twisted mockery of life, made up of millions of dead carcasses. Man and animal, rotting flesh, bone and maggot-ridden bodies all twisted and melded together into mangled heaps.

There before him, was a creature that defied all the laws of nature. There, before him was an undead monstrosity. And it was headed for the Woods of Vilsrough.

The druid pulled himself out of the grip of the spell. With a low growl, he spun back and started off at a sprint, Changing into a cheetah in midstride and bursting into a full run for the woods.

"May the lady's grace be with us."

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