Searing 2, 123
Franky stood upon the barricade, looking down the hill that departed the Upper Knob heading for the Taint. The Dome was still in place and intact but that was only the center of the area. The rest of it still held shrouds of mist abound. His shield was strapped to his arm, his sword hanging from his belt, as Virak, an older half elf approached him.
"Franky, we've seen raiders mobilizing over in the Grungeworks. We're expecting a raiding party to be sent out." The Hobgoblin nodded, "With the sun returned, you expecting them around sunset?"
"Yes. I've organized for more reinforcements here, and successfully managed to get word to the other barricade."
Franky looked over at the man, giving a single nod, "Good. Well done."
His eyes were drawn to several mist rats racing toward the wall of old carts, pallets, and scrap wood that served as fortifications. He snarled. Nasty things, disgusting, inedible and spread strange diseases. Once they were close enough, the throwers hit them with stones flung by slings and wrist rockets. As the rats died, they began to melt away, staining the road beneath them black.
"There's something big in there right now, I think. We saw a shadow in the morning fog, and creatures keep trying to flee."
Franky hopped down off the barricade, and the elf looked at him surprise. "Sir, where are you going?"
Looking up at him, Franky's smile pulled back revealing his sharpened teeth, "Two birds, one stone. I'll signal my return in the usual manner."
The elf nodded, "Yes sir."
Franky thumbed the feather he kept within his shield, summoning forth the protection granted by Arcas from the corruption, and he disappeared into the mist. And once he was out of reach of his people's eyes, he activated his ring. He grimaced through the pain, as his skin tightened up, tinted green, red hair sprouting from his head and tumbling down his back as he took on his younger appearance. He whooshed out a breath as it settled in, and he gripped his sword tight, pulling it from its scabbard. He held it up before him, looking at the hand of the young Major Frankorg he'd once been.
A chuckle echoed from his demonic lips, he used to think that such things were meant for young men and women to do, risking their lives to do foolish things like going into the depths of hell alone. But such actions were wasted on youth. It was time to wield the best of both worlds; the weight that came from one that seemed so young accomplishing the impossible, wielded by a mind such as his, sharpened from years of experience. He saw more rats fleeing past him, and he trudged toward their source.
Time to have some fun.
