The only relief the seven hunters had in sight was the shape of their destination, an island with gnarled palm trees and woven black sand, a source of corruption they’d as of now, had a slight hold out of hope had been fake. Another sailors story of a distant sight in the dead of night.
Their scout, Mikhail, had withdrawn a spyglass, his prized possession, something which had cost him a fair gold price at a market, and was scanning the beaches with it. Everyone waited tersely for his verdict, he was the best spotter amongst them.
He looked away, retracting the spyglass, and tucking it back into his armored overcoat. He wordlessly reached for his crossbow, which he’d left propped up against a section of the deck.
“Well…?”
Another member of the crew asked, this one named Melody.
“All the signs are there. Blood runs through the sand. The trees are…changing, even as we speak. It’s real.”
Soon enough, they were as close as the captain would take them. A smaller man, gnomish, the only one willing to take them out here.
The leader of the group, an elf named Killian, looked over at the captain.
“As we agreed, you’ll remain here for four hours. Then you’re free to leave.”
The captain looked as if he may have wanted to protest. But the coin and Killian’s intimidating figure lead to him simply nodding. The group then filed off the deck, and into the rowboat they were using for landfall, and once more in silence, the seven headed for shore. The trip taking only a few minutes, they soon reached the black sands of the islands. Disembarking their craft, and doing a final check of weapons and armor. They each had different kinds, the only running theme being vials of holy water, two per person, and three wooden stakes on each of them. Two tried and true tools. The only better circumstance would have been coming during the day, but then again, if they’d done that, the prey would be reclusive. Here, they stood a chance in a straight up fight.
Immediately, though, they all noticed something unsettling. As they stepped across the sand, what Mikhail had said was true. The ground was infused with blood. And it bled with every step.
“Guess it’s not hungry.” A dwarven hunter named White remarked, getting pointed looks from the more serious members of the group.
Eventually, though, they got off of the beach. Reaching the foliage, though it seemed more dense than they had seen from the shore. Gnarled plants, blackened and grayed as if rotted, hardened and blocked their paths. Some of them had more of the crimson liquid of life rolling down their leaves and branches, as if they were overflowing with it. Either way, the foliage could still be cleared. A well built hunter named Srella took to clearing out the plants with a greatblade, slowly but surely making a path through the brush, more blood leaking out as they were cut, causing her entire front to be coated in the trickling liquid.
The hunters waited with anticipation, as they slowly creeped through, when suddenly, the hacking and slashing in front of them came to a stop. Srella, whose strokes had gotten slower and slower slowly fell forward. The healer, Stevens, hurried forward to see what was wrong, and turned her around.
A small creature, about the size of a mouse, had burrowed into her throat, and out of the side. More blood soaked the soil, which seemed to pulsate and spew out more, as if celebrating new blood. The creature itself was insectoid, but had reptilian scales, a pair of pincers and claws being used to burrow. Other holes in other parts of her body, through the entrail and limb, spewing more blood. Had she not noticed through what she’d been covered in?
Not much time to contemplate. In their urge to gather around their injured comrade, to help where they could, they’d left one member, named Cait, on the very outskirts of their circle. Her cry of pain was more immediate, and quickly turned into a shriek. Each turned, to see her stumbling back…with a thick sound of the moving of flesh, the piercing of it. She’d been impaled by three plant ferns, with edges sharper than steel. Through on the ends, like they’d spent time digging through, were pieces of organs and entrails, covered in blood, held aloft like trophies. Her scream was cut off, as she lost too much blood in the span of a few moments, her body now held aloft like her pieces had been. The ground beneath her also began to pulsate, like it had near Srella.
The five remaining were quick to form up. Wordlessly moving for shore. They needed open ground.
However, most of them would not reach it. Their formation was broken by a tree movement, moving like a massive club towards Stevens. Before anyone could react, he was sent flying, his pulverized body sent flying into a nearby stone, in a burst of human paste, which was outlined against the moonlight. As they picked up the pace, White tripped over a root, and didn’t get up. Killian turned him over, and saw his eyes rolled into his head, mouth gurgling with blood pushed into his throat. The remaining three ran to the beach, and actually made it there. Moving for the boat, Killian looked over his shoulder, and saw the shape moving in the trees.
Easily ten feet tall, with unnatural proportions, one of its arms was larger than overs, covered in black scales, and tipped with razor sharp claws, the other looked normal, even relatively humanoid. Its legs were both massive, and most of its body mass, ending in three pronged feet, like a bird. Its face and torso resembled an elven woman, a malnourished one. She wore tattered clothes which didn’t cover much of anything, and her face was a maddened snarl. Blood, piles and buckets of it, ran down its entire form, as it poised to jump.
Not a vampire. What it was, it didn’t matter.
Killian drew his sword to fight the Sanguine Titan alone. The others ran.
None of them got anywhere.
As blood soaked the shore, to run into the sea.
Kindling And Miscellany 