The Homunculus Knight

"So, quick question, can an idiot summon a demon? I mean, anyone who does is already crazy, stupid, or evil, but think about it, could someone really properly dumb conjure up a hellkyn? Sure, they might manage it, and almost certainly not survive the rite, but that's now what we're asking. Yes, an idiot can summon a demon. Now take that idea and extend it, how dumb is dumb, and how dumb can you get to still do magic? See, plenty of animals can do little magic, that's what direbeasts are. But what about ritual work, what about demons? If an idiot can do it, why can't an animal?"- Words of (self-taught) Exorcist Fergus of Fallstone

Before leaving Azyge, Cole had taken time to name and explain the most likely dangers the expedition would face in this final leg of their journey. He spoke of maimed ghouls lying in wait, eager to sink teeth and claws into the unaware like unliving bear traps. He warned against eating or drinking anything not boiled or blessed for fear of unnatural sickness. He explained how local spirits might become erratic and even dangerous thanks to the thick miasma. He even made sure everyone knew a few basic battle-cant handsigns for silent communication. But somehow in his great list of dangers, he'd forgotten the one that currently bedeviled Natalie: mud; corpse-smelling, boot-sucking, ghoul-hiding, mud.

Staring down at her stained pant legs and drowned shoes, the vampire hissed. "The next time we encounter one of those giant skeletons, we're killing it slowly."

A little ahead of her, Cole grunted as he tried to keep the cargo sled he was dragging from toppling over into the mud. "Normally, I'd remind you not to be so glib about destroying the undead, but right now, I find myself agreeing with you."

The expedition had been on the road for three hours, or more precisely, they'd been traveling for three hours; they'd only been on the actual road for roughly forty-five minutes. As the main artery connecting Harmas to Azyge had been severed in a rather unique fashion. Hundreds of massive skeletal footprints had marred the road, creating a regular series of potholes that by themselves would have been annoying, but when compounded with other factors, made the gravel path almost impassable. Recent rains had not just filled these potholes but used them to sink down into the road's structure like poison entering through a wound. So in mere days, the gravel suffered the damage of decades. Turning what should have been a clear path for the expedition into an uneven, unstable morass that was somehow even more treacherous than the surrounding fields.

Those farmfields, already soggy from the spring weather, had been churned up by the corpse-tide's passage, turning them into a colossal pigsty that barred all but the most persistent traveler's which unfortunately the expedition counted as. So now, they trekked across kilometers and kilometers of mud; mud that didn't even have the decency to be consistently deep, as Natalie had just discovered.

"How in the hells did that rattler even know how to use a road?" Alia griped from a little further back in the formation.

They'd settled on having Cole and Natalie in the front as vanguard, while Mina, Alia, Kit, and Yara stayed in the center, with Grettir and Deborah as rearguard. A solid plan on paper, but one that resulted in Natalie ending up with far, far too much mud and other even more questionable substances covering her.

"Maybe, its creator told it to follow them? If its purpose was to destroy any surviving towns, then just sending it along major roadways seems a smart idea," muttered Mina.

Cole made a noise of concern. "The enemy having autonomous siege-engines is worrying, but I find the rattler's scouting capabilities a more pressing matter. Even if its senses weren't transmitting information to a necromancer, whoever held its leash will certainly know it's been destroyed. So I expect someone or something to come investigating"

Natalie frowned. "So undead reinforcements heading Azyge's way if we're lucky; another group like Wolfgang's if we're not."

"That's about it," replied Cole as he yanked the sled through a patch of tangled weeds that somehow clung to life amidst the mud. Measuring a man's height in length, the sled carried half of the group's supplies and was wrapped in a thick tarpaulin that, gods willing, would protect its contents from this miserable journey.

A startled yelp came from behind, and Natalie spun just in time to see Yara leaping back from something moving in the mud. Alia drew her blade and prepared to strike, but Mina stopped her, instead reaching down to pluck a wriggling shape. It was a human forearm, its ragged fingers groping madly at thin air. Holding the severed limb away from her, Mina made a noise of disgust. "I've read about this before, but never seen it."

While everyone else stared at the forearm, Cole grew his weapon and started prodding around in the muck. "Yeah, with thick enough miasma, severed parts of a ghoul can occasionally stay reanimated. That arm's owner is probably buried under all this."

Mina knelt then, placing her free hand into the muck, and whispered a series of rapid prayers. Silver fog wafted down from the severed limb and settled onto a spot nearby. After a moment, the magic seeped into the mud, and a tiny blue-white flame sputtered out from the filth. Setting the now still limb down, the priestess said. "I freed the soul, but I don't think we can do much else."

Eyes flicking around them, Yara asked. "Are there more of those?"

"Indubitably," replied Kit. "I've read about the clean-up operations after the third blood war. They had to invent new miracles after some of those battles."

On that sour note, they dug a hole for the forearm and continued on their way.

For the next few hours, the group travelled in silence, stopping only to reorient themselves or reinter another doomed soul. But finally, when the sun was high overhead, fortune cracked the smallest of smiles, and they found another road, this one not ruined by giant footprints. While still caked in a toe-deep layer of mud, the old farm track was infinitely easier walking than the fields. The group wasn't exactly certain where this new road led, but its course was north-eastern, which would have to be good enough.

Enjoying having relatively solid ground beneath her feet, Natalie walked next to Cole, a dozen words sitting upon her tongue but none ready to fly free. He was doing much better than before, that was obvious in every step. And while a certain tension still clung to Cole, it was subtle, something he bore with practiced ease. Seeing this sparked a strange mix of relief and shame inside Natalie. Even if her lover's mental wounds were healing, that didn't erase the fact that she'd been the source of them.

"Do I have some mud on my face?"

Cole's question jerked Natalie from her thoughts, and she shook her head. "No, no, I'm just… thinking."

Halberd on one shoulder, eyes scanning the surroundings (including her), he asked. "About what?"

Fighting down the instinct to take a comforting breath, knowing it would only fill her nose with all manner of wretched smells, Natalie whispered. "You, me, us."

In response, Cole held out a hand, which she eagerly took. Feeling his scars and calluses, she tried to knock some words loose, but none came. There was just so much to say, but she'd already said all of it. So instead, she just squeezed his fingers and let herself lean against him. Things weren't quite normal between them, but they were close enough.

"Oi, lovebirds, eyes on the road."

Alia's catcall got an annoyed glare from Natalie and Cole's soft agreement. "We need to be focused; the closer we get to Harmas, the more dangerous things will be."

In response, Natalie let her fingers stroke the rune-marked wolf skull dangling from her belt. "Lupus, lupus, lupus."

A quartet of spectral wolves manifested around her, their senses reinforcing the vampire's own. Grasping at the link connecting her to the familiars, Natalie frowned. "Huh, you're right, it's taking less blood to maintain them."

As the wolves spread out around them, Cole asked. "How far can you go from you?"

"At least a few kilometers; should I send some down the road?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Yes, but be subtle about it. Potential allies might be scared off by the necromancy and potential enemies attracted by its uniqueness."

Nodding, she sent two wolves loping off, feeding them the least amount of power necessary so their bodies became more ephemeral. As the phantom lupines faded from sight, she let another pair slip away in different directions, these would form a loose perimeter around the group, making sure nothing snuck up on them.

Cole made a noise of approval and said. "I was thinking about us as well."

"Oh?"

The paladin offered a wry smile. "More specifically, I was thinking about last night."

An undignified snort escaped Natalie, and she pushed her head against his shoulder in mock annoyance. "I don't know if I should be complimented or offended that you're thinking of that while we're surrounded by corpse-laden mud."

Letting his arm wrap around her, he said. "Maybe, it's got me wanting another bath."

"Are you seriously flirting with me right now?"

"What else is there to do on a long trip with a pretty woman?"

A pebble flew through the air and bounced off Cole's helmet.

"We've got jagging ears back here, y'know," came Alia's surly voice.

Natalie offered the city-warden a rude gesture and felt a smile grow on her face. "Is it strange to say I almost enjoy this?"

"My attempts at flirting, or annoying Alia?"

"Both, but also being on the road with you."

They fell into a wonderfully familiar pattern of idle chatter and silly flirtation. Perhaps this wasn't the smartest thing to do while traveling through dangerous territory, but both of them leapt at the chance for a little sweetness.

But all good things come to an end, and soon enough, one of Natalie's familiars smelled something strange. Pausing mid-sentence, the vampire sniffed the air with five different noses, trying to identify the new pungent odor coming from somewhere up the road. On the surface was the simple stink of rot, but beneath that overarching olfactory theme were other notes that refused to be drowned out. Fresh feces, old garbage, and a strange, earthy animal smell that tickled at both Natalie and her wolves' recollection.

Coming to a halt, she gestured for the group to pause, ignoring their questions as her mind was busy with another body. Peering through her familiar's senses, she watched as they sped along the gravel path, heading towards the smell's source. The two scout wolves were a few kilometers up the road and quickly approaching what must be an abandoned farming hamlet. No fresh domestic scents rose from the scattering of buildings, just more of the stink that pulled Natalie's attention.

Ordering her wolves to approach carefully, she finally turned her attention back to the group. "Ruined settlement up ahead, something there smells strange."

The sound of rustling paper announced that Kit was trying to unfold one of their maps. "If we're headed in the right direction, then that's probably Camber, a tiny swineherder village."

Cole spun towards Kit, his expression suddenly wary. "A pig farm?"

The magi nodded as Yara helped him hold the map. "At least that's what some of the dwarves I talked to said."

Eyes scanning the surrounding muddy fields, Cole asked. "Can we cut across any of these and avoid the village?"

Mina, seeing his clear concern, put a hand to her mace. "You expect a large ghoul infestation there?"

Cole shook his head slowly. "That would be preferable to what might be awaiting us."

Natalie's wolves were getting closer to the village, and she could make out more details about it. In particular, one of the small farmhouses near the road caught her attention; its front door was smashed down, and a trail of mud led into its structure. The stink coming from within the building was incredible, and her wolf's instincts said this was something's den. Slipping forward, the familiar approached the broken door, stepping around piles of reeking animal filth. Now, this close to the source, Natalie realized what the wolf was smelling.

"Pigs?"

A pair of beady, dark eyes shone from within the abandoned house, and a high, challenging squeal echoed out of the broken doorway. The wolf leapt back as a large feral hog burst out into the open. Easily a meter at the shoulder and twice that in length, the hog was covered in bristly grey fur marred by dozens of open sores. Shrieking in outrage, the pig barreled towards the wolf, thrusting out four wicked-looking tusks. Dancing around the strange swine, Natalie's familiar watched eagerly for any weakness, but before it could find any, more screams echoed from the broken building, and a half-dozen pigs shoved at each other to get through the splintered doorway.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

As the wolf backed away, Natalie's attention returned to her body as Cole nodded gravely. "Most animals avoid ghouls. Even carrion eaters will seek out other options before going after one. But, for some pantheon-forsaken reason, pigs are an exception to that rule."

More noise was coming from the other buildings in the hamlet, shrieks and squeals that unified into a choir of porcine outrage. Even without Natalie's prompting, her familiar had turned to flee, like any good predator, it knew to avoid a roused herd.

Checking his halberd and armor, Cole continued. "Pigs will eat ghouls, in fact, they'll even go as far as to hunt them once they've gotten a taste. But that sort of diet isn't amenable to even swine. At best, they get sick and aggressive, especially towards people; at worst, when the Aether is thick with miasma, they can start to mutate."

The swine herd shrieked as one, and the fleeing wolf caught sight of one of the larger houses shifting, but didn't look for long as nearly two dozen full-grown hogs chased after it. Still, the wolf heard the crunch and clatter of a building collapsing.

"Uh, Cole, what kind of mutations?" asked Natalie as she commanded her other wolves to circle around the village.

"Larger tusks, increased muscle mass, and atypical size are the most common. But I've heard of rare situations where some members of a herd can experience other more grotesque changes," he answered, before adding, "So it's best we avoid this village, and get word to the temple of Aunt Huntress as soon as possible."

Watching through her familiar senses as the shrieking pigs started to congregate into a mass of angry meat, Natalie swallowed nervously. "That… that might not be possible."

All eyes settled on her, and sheepishly, the vampire explained. "My familiars got their attention."

After a pregnant silence, Mina asked. "Can you have your wolves lead them away?"

Grettir addressed the group for what had to be first time in days. "Won't work, pigs have a better sense of smell than dogs. With how the wind is blowing, they'll catch our scent soon enough."

It was sometimes easy to forget the werewolf mercenary was present, let alone that he was an experienced monster hunter. As he was perfectly fine just doing what he'd been hired to do, protecting Deborah, and nothing else.

Alia looked around at the mixture of fallow fields and muddy pastures surrounding them. "Well, this is a shitty place to fight, but we'll have to make do."

Staring off in the village's direction, Cole replied. "No, this will fall to Natalie and me, the rest of you will need to cut across the fields and keep heading west."

"It will?" said the surprised vampire.

"Like I said, the pigs get sick, and we can't risk anyone here catching that flesh-eating blight."

Letting go of his sled's pulling rope, Cole checked his armor and weapons. "Natalie and I are immune, so we'll deal with the herd. Then once the pigs are dead or deterred, Yara's psychic link will help us all reunite."

Back near the village, the Lupus pack was busy trying to avoid being run down by a growing swarm of angry hogs. Close to a hundred full-grown swine were shrieking and snorting as they chased after the wolves. At Natalie's direction, the pack headed south, trying to lure the herd away from her friends, but already cracks were showing in this effort. Pockets of pigs were breaking from the chase, pausing to sniff the rot-laden air, clearly sensing something more aromatic than a pack of ectoplasmic constructs.

Even with their pursuers beginning to hesitate, the wolves were not happy with this situation; old memories and older instincts told them exactly how bad a situation they were in. So, even a few kilometers away, Natalie found her own hackles raised with second-hand anxiety. "Cole, I'm assuming you've got a plan to deal with this?"

Stepping off the road and into muddy pasture land, the paladin tested his footing, seeing how he sank into the damp muck. Nodding to himself, he offered her a cautious shrug. "Hopefully."

Then he started walking towards the village, halberd held before him like a hunter's spear. Pursing her lips, Natalie glanced at the rest of the group and then started heading along the road. "I'm hoping this plan doesn't require me to get in the mud as well?"

Grettir picked up the sled's rope and started heading off-road opposite Cole, and shortly after, the rest followed him. Strangely, both Yara and Mina hesitated to leave, where the thrall looked clearly unwilling to leave her mistress, the priestess's expression was one of concerned calculation. By contrast, Alia was waving goodbye with mock solemnity. "Don't get eaten by pigs!"

"I'll try not to," muttered Natalie as she followed after Cole.

Cole's plan did, in fact, not involve Natalie joining him in the mud. No, that privilege would be all his. Standing up to his shins in a torn-up farmfield, the paladin was busy trying to prepare what would be the largest spell he'd yet cast. Eyes shut, focusing on his soul and the power contained within, he fought to draw forth the pure elemental power of cold. Memories of deep winters and deeper chills flowed through him, resonating with his soul, letting Cole draw forth a singular theme of magic.

"Are you sure this will work?" came his partner's voice from nearby. She stood maybe ten meters back, safely on the road, her attention split between him and the wolves.

Feeling icy vapor curl past his lips, Cole replied. "I hope so."

His flesh thrummed with power, a nimbus of glowing fog swirling about him as reality bent to the paladin's will. He held a blizzard in his breast, a barely constrained wave of concentrated chill, a dearth of heat and warmth that would flow forth the moment he let go. So many times, Cole had used spells like this, summoning breaths of frost, entropic or otherwise; so many times he'd danced close to properly using his mantle, now it was time to see what a paladin of Master Time could really do.

"They'll be here in a minute," called Natalie.

The howls of wolves and the screeching of swine grew louder and louder by the second. Natalie's pack was luring the pigs through the fields outside Camber and right towards Cole. Finally opening his eyes, he stared at the muddy ground beneath him, seeing how the magic radiating off him turned damp soil hard as stone. They'd passed beyond where the corpse-tide marched, but the land was still a stinking morass. Judging from the torn up sod and stripped stalks, the pigs had been through these fields, doing nearly as much damage as the ghouls. A fact, Cole was going to hopefully turn to his advantage.

"Thirty seconds!"

Gazing out over the farm-turned-sty before him, the paladin watched his quarry approach. Natalie and Lupus had done their jobs well; over a hundred pigs were charging directly for him. Plowing through the despoiled soil, they screamed and squealed as they danced the line between stampede and feeding frenzy. Swallowing down a nervous lump, Cole knelt, pressing his palms into the muddy ground. He'd died a lot of ways, but never by pig, and he was hoping to keep it that way.

"Now!"

Feeling the damp muck between his fingers, Cole focused his mind and soul upon the soil beneath him. With magic flowing through him, he could peer into the Aether, seeing how the resonance of life and death warred within this abandoned land. Rich earth, cultivated and kept by generations, lay silent and seedless, confused by its recent mistreatment. The acrid tang of miasma hung over the ground, a festering cloud that seeped through everything, denying natural processes their completion, stunting growth, and stalling decay. And while it was beyond Cole to banish the miasma like strong wind did a bad smell, he could maybe soothe the soil in an atypical fashion. A shaman or servant of Mother Earth might purify and protect the damp dirt so it would rise ready for summer's bounty, but a paladin of Master Time could instead lull it back into its seasonal sleep.

Lips nearly touching the muck beneath him, Cole whispered like a prayer. "Slumber now despoiled lands, for I conjure winter with my hands."

Back at Azyge, he'd consecrated a broken gatehouse with the blessing of entropy, turning damage into devastation; now, he blessed this broken farmfield with cold, pure, bitter cold. All around the paladin, mud stiffened and creaked as dirt-bound moisture turned to ice. Before him, the ground rippled and resettled as groundwater expanded. Looking up from where he was prostrate, Cole watched the swine meet the coming ice. The first of the pigs, smaller, faster specimens, tried to slow as their senses detected the shift, but the momentum of a stampede pushed them onward. Cloven hoofs met rapidly freezing ground, and the wild squeals turned into proper screams.

Up to their mouths in muck, the pigs quickly found themselves trapped as the soil itself squeezed around them like an icy fist. Bones broke, muscles tore, frostbite sank its teeth into anything remotely damp. Cole winced as hog after hog smashed into each other in an avalanche of shrieking meat. Some were pressed into the mud, suffocating in the suddenly stone-solid substance, others were maimed as frost-fragile legs snapped, and few simply died from temperature shock. Yet extensive as the damage was, it wasn't universal, and some particularly lucky or harder pigs managed to clamber over their dying kin and come straight for Cole.

Pushing off the ground, he tried to rise, but suddenly realized one major flaw to this spell: he was frozen into the mud as well. Frantically pulling and pushing, trying to get some measure of traction or leverage, Cole began to curse extravagantly. The nearest pig, a carbuncle-clad hog with bristly fur and thumb-sized tusks, barreled forward, murder in its beady eyes. A pair of wolves leapt over the paladin and sank spectral fangs into the boar, bringing it down with primal aggression.

"Need help?"

Cole looked up to find Natalie next to him, her head cocked with amusement. Grist, the sheepdog materialized then, his transparent paws scrabbling at the frozen ground around the paladin. Elsewhere, the rest of the pack ran wild, tearing into the surviving swine. Grunting with effort, Cole managed to yank one hand free, chunks of pseudo-permafrost falling away as he flexed the fingers. "Thanks."

Teeth chattering, the paladin finished freeing himself and took up Requiem in its halberd aspect. "That spell took a lot out of me magically, but I'm still capable of fighting traditionally. I'll play shield, you play sword?"

As his lover nodded, Cole stomped toward the bogged-down herd, trying to get feeling back in his limbs. Deborah might be able to walk through fire unharmed, but he wasn't quite there yet. Halberd lashing out, he struck the nearest struggling pig from on high, severing the spine with a single clean blow. Next, a huge sow snapped free of the ice, missing a hoof, it tottered forward like a listing ship. Cole kicked the pig right in the side of the head, sending it sprawling with a shattered skull. Another smaller beast, with unusually long tusks, scampered to the right, dodging Requiem but not the wolf that clamped jaws around its throat. Over and over, Cole struck the surviving swine, Natalie and her pack culling any who tried to escape or reposition.

Within minutes, the herd lay dead, liters of pig blood running between cracks in the mud like rain down gutters. It was ugly work, as the majority were barely alive thanks to Cole's spell, but it needed to be done. Still, Natalie managed to sample a little bit of ichor from the healthiest-looking swine, which was at least something resembling a silver lining. But even with the pigs dealt with, Cole knew this matter wasn't quite done.

Crouching down before the largest boar, he examined the pattern of festering sores covering its flanks. Long splits in the skin marked by seething infection ran along the pig, reminding the paladin of torn sailcloth. "I've seen these before."

Wiping her mouth, Natalie came beside him. "Huh, they do kind of look familiar."

Prodding the skin slits with Requiem's tip, Cole muttered. "This pig grew far too quickly; its own skin couldn't keep up with all that muscle and tissue."

"Like a gorger ghoul?"

"Yes, and by itself that's not too unusual, these swine are swollen on ghoul-flesh." Now turning to another smaller pig, he poked its sickly pale hide. "But, when combined with this here, things get a bit more tricky."

Gently, Cole stabbed the second pig's flank, seeing how the speartip sank in easily. Widening the incision, he let cool blood drain, revealing muscle fibers stretched thin to the point of snapping over bones displaying hundreds of barely sealed cracks. "Signs of rapid developmental growth, this creature went through a severely shortened life cycle."

"I take it that's bad?" asked Natalie, her voice heavy with tired resignation.

In answer, Cole started heading towards the remnants of Camber. Only stopped when he saw Natalie eyeing the pig carcasses with concern. "They'll decay naturally, it won't smell good around here for a while, and scavengers will feast, but things will take their course."

Camber turned out to be a collage of nightmares united into a single grim tale. Walking through the empty streets, stepping over pile of pig shit and worse, Cole's trained eyes picked out individual stories amidst the wreckage. The scratch marks on battered shutters speaking to a hungry ghoul's efforts. The half-dozen shallow graves just recently added to the village's petty cemetery. The broken wagon wheel left beside the road during a frantic evacuation. The splintered wooden gate leading to an abandoned sty rich with broken bones. Terrible things had happened here, things someone like Cole could easily imagine.

Following in his footsteps, Natalie kept her wolves close. She also understood Camber's story, that was plain to see in her drawn features. "What are we looking for?"

Tapping his nose, Cole gestured towards one of the larger barns. "Do you smell that?"

"I've been trying not to breathe."

"Smart. Something there stinks of ammonia and fresh life."

They headed for the barn, only stopping as Grist paused to examine a pile of filth. "Oh, what are you-" started Natalie, and then the ghost dog plucked a familiar bone from the muck, a gnawed human femur. Grist dropped it into the muck with a whine upon seeing his owner's expression. "The ghouls they ate, what about their souls?"

Pausing, Cole carefully picked up the bone, examining the tooth marks. Setting down the remains, he fished out his amulet and started to pray. Consecrating a monster's lair to free any souls trapped within had been the first use of this power; now it was time to see how much Deborah's wisdom could improve upon that old spell. The amulet began to glow, becoming brighter and brighter until it seemed like Cole was holding a star between his fingers. Reaching down to grasp the femur with his burning fist, the paladin let his magic flow out through the bone and blood-stained ground. The memory of temple bells rang in Cole's head, and silver spots danced at the edge of his vision, as a cold emptiness filled him.

The next thing he knew, Natalie was frantically shaking him, her worried face and the cloudy sky coming in and out of focus as he lay on the ground insensate. As the temple bells quieted, Cole heard his lover's panicked voice. "Cole? Cole! What's wrong?"

Letting out a groan, he tried to roll over to hands and knees, only to collapse back into the dirt. Armor plates pressed against suddenly tender flesh, and he fought down something akin to nausea. It felt like he'd been hollowed out, a carcass ready for taxidermy. Blinking slowly, hoping to banish his double vision, Cole quickly realized this issue wasn't physical. Clouds of dark red fog swirled about Natalie, each extending out into a translucent tether shaped like elongated spinal cords. Grist came sniffing at Cole's prone form, and he could see where the tether attached to the familiar like a leash. Beyond his lover and her servants, the air was thick with roiling miasma, the pungent clouds reeking of stagnant death, but split in places by shafts of silver. Immaterial forms burst free from the corruption, flickers of faces and hands that vanished like popping embers.

Realizing Natalie was now almost screaming, Cole grabbed her arm and forced his tongue to work. "I'm, I'm alright, just used more power than I expected."

With her help, he got to his feet and then used Requiem as a walking stick. Leaning against the weapon, while wiping his amulet clean, Cole forced down shaky breaths of filthy air. "I probably ran right up to my limit there. Any more and I'd have died."

Fighting down a nervous chuckle, he added. "I wonder what new madness I'd come back with this time?"

Cole's aethersight started to fade, and his perception of reality almost returned to normal. He'd gotten a lot better at controlling that ability, and it was rarely this sort of overwhelming deluge, but pushing his powers so far was inevitably going to have side effects.

As the final wisps of enhanced understanding faded, he turned his attention to the barn they'd been heading towards and frowned. A pustle of spasming darkness lay within, its mass twitching to the beat of some malignant heart. Themes of life, death, birth, decay, gluttony, and love swirled about the Aetheric tumor in heady currents strong as they were simple.

Tightening his grip on Requiem, the paladin looked at Natalie. "Be prepared, whatever awaits us isn't good."

Gesturing vaguely about her, she scoffed. "No shit."