Today’s teaser introduces a new character who may be just what Clyde needs to survive War of Nytefall: Savagery. I was on the fence about making a post about this guy too or even showing his name right now. He’s a denizen of Mestra, so maybe you’ll get to see him do another day. Enjoy.
“Ask them to take the arrows out.”
“I can’t speak their language.”
“Do you think they’re going to eat us?”
“They keep switching out the bowls beneath us.”
“They aren’t happy about that either.”
“Your arm is free, so scratch my nose.”
“I have a small question, Lost.”
“How are you still talking with an arrow through your throat?”
“Missed my speaking parts by half an inch.”
“Of course, they did.”
The clearing they have been brough to is five times the size of the previous cool zone and is much warmer, but still tolerable. While not covered in steam, there is a thin layer of the sweltering vapor drifting across the rocky ground. The small village that surrounds the Dawn Fangs is a collection of tall trees that have been stripped of their leaves. Several of the archers are perched in the branches, which they cling to with their flexible feet. Youngsters run around the open spaces and use slingshots to fire globs of mud. None of the adults pay attention to the kids unless one of them dares to aim at the prisoners. A perfectly aimed rock knocks the weapon from the startled child’s hands and they gurgle in apology before going back to their game. With the area shaped like a taut longbow, most of the creatures are in the central area. A few linger at the distant tips, each of which has a windowless, clay dome that can fit only one of the citizens at a time. Clyde and Lost notice that the southern building is where they are getting the empty bowls while the filled ones are being brought to the north. It has been an hour since the blood collecting has begun and the vampires can see that the confused creatures are starting to get agitated. Ugly looks and the occasional wave towards the pair makes them well aware that they are not what their captors expected. The shortest of the tribe proves their silent thoughts correct when it stomps its feet and jumps around making a wild coughing noise.
Carefully watching the display, Clyde slowly grips two of the arrows and tries to pull himself along them without being noticed. He freezes when a sticky liquid drips onto the back of his neck and his skin feels like it has spread out. Unable to turn around without being noticed, he checks the ground for shadows and sees a tiny figure flitting between him and Lost. He hears the girl giggle and whisper for her bunny to leave her alone, but Clyde can see that her pet is still laying on the ground near the edge of the clearing. With his wrists impaled, he cannot reach back to check his neck and figure out why it feels mushy instead of solid. A dull thud draws his attention to where a yellow and pink fruit has been dropped. The pear-shaped object has a large hole in the bottom, which is seeping a clear juice that thins the surrounding steam. A child runs over the discarded remains and howls as if in agony, but the adults merely take the youth to the pond where they wash the skin clean.
Clyde turns at a sudden hiss from Lost and he sees that she is jerking her head towards something behind him. A suspicious breeze strikes his cheek and he swears that a leathery object has grazed his hair. He cranes his neck enough to get a glimpse of a strange creature that is carrying one of the odd fruits. No bigger than a robin, the four-armed monster is carefully lifting the pear above its head and aiming a green horn at the bottom. It hovers using a pair of bat wings that are barely noticeable because they blend into the surroundings. Every time the creature moves, the color changes except for a black outline along the bottom edge that would be impossible to notice from far away. The tiny beast is wearing a tunic made of a rough, ebony fabric that smells faintly of a corpse. In contrast to the dark clothing, the tiny figure has a puff of sun-like hair and eyes that are the color of cherry wood. Pulling the fruit off its horn, the creature prepares to drip the juice on Clyde and freezes when it sees that it has been discovered.
“The steam sure is nice when it’s making you sweat, right?” it asks while trying to hide the pear behind its back. It turns around to find that Lost is staring at it too, the hungry look on her face chilling the creature’s blood. “So, I should explain things . . .