“This is a little random, but go with it……”

We entered the publican with haste, bristled by our clear visibility as two strangers entering a town replete with citizens that wretched at the defamation of their culture and sneered at the advent of mysticism and conjurers. I had to conceal my identity as well as hers to avert any idle speculation adapting into aggressive subjugation. Ordinarily we would have camped out on the heath, distance from prying speculation but we needed accommodation sheltered from the harsh elements, sustenance and various supplies as our own suppositories had been depleted by our fierce encounters by our perusers. The establishment was gloomy, bereft of life and vibrancy. The ambient light receded behind the curtains that draped over the small partitions that barred the windows from the external luminance, granting a modest riposte from recognition. I barely had time to acclimate to the comprehensive dim before the proprietor glared at us with incredulity, conveying evident gestural dubiety as I guided my companion to maintain temporary residence at the table closets to the fire, and proceeded to enquire into the availability of temporary tenancy. Still appraising my obscure garbs and studded sheath that made it discernible that I rarely frequented such reproached abodes, his hesitancy to comply to my humble inquisition was becoming a deterrent. After a curiously aphonic evaluation, a short nod of his head indicated that accommodation was available.

We bartered momentarily before purchasing necessary provisions that had been vacant necessities on our erroneous travels. After our brief negotiation, generous reparation was settled for our restitution and I cantered back to the surreptitious confines of our table, carrying 2 bowel’s of mutton soup, a small wine and a flagon of mead. Her head was declined with her distinctive features canopied by the enveloping hood of her robe. With her hands stretched out clasped in one another’s embrace, seeking the warmth emitted from the fiery hearth her nose began to rankle at the aroma of the mutton. As we began to devour the miscellany of vegetables and meat swimming in a glazed stew, the previously vacant establishment was now clamorous with local activity. We promptly devoured our respective beverages, cleansed our bowel’s of there saline contents, endeavouring to retire to the agreed residence without attracting the passive curiosity of the provincial patrons. With the room filled with a cacophony of musical joviality with our discretion now omitted, wary of our arrested safety we jostled through the mingling throng of intoning natives, until I felt firm restraint grip my shoulder. As I prepared to relinquish his compliant constraint, with my hand gripped tightly around the hilt of my sword, carefully extracting its acute prowess for slaying, my eyes darted to meet his and gasped a the visage that confronted me……

“Just imagine if Bethesda had assisted in the making of Assassins Creed!”

His features had inverted, exposing the un-rendered sinews of his face. His eyes bulging, teeth sneering with derision, penetrating my very soul! I stepped back startled by the sudden necromancy that had afflicted the recipients in the vicinity, with some demonstrating odd muscle elasticity in their extremities. Legs began to splay upwards, necks elongated, protruding like the body of a serpent. Stationary individuals became mobile without the use of their apparitional appendages, appearing to buoyantly navigate the tavern like spectres. But before I could confront these devilish apparitions, the ground beneath dissipated, to which I plummeted into the depths of oblivion before being frozen in time, forever!

The End?