Travis Starnes
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The Blackstar Legacy - Chapter 7
🕑 Added 2025-02-13 15:00:05 +0000 UTCThe night spent in the shadow of the Claws had been an uneasy one, and Osric wasn’t sure anyone got enough rest. It was made worse by sounds, ranging from howls to strange clicking, that went on throughout the night.
At least it made it easy for everyone to be up and get an early start. They were already going to have to spend one night in and one night coming back out. Osric wanted to avoid having to add to that, so after putting the horses in the temporary corral Rowan set up, they were on their way.
It was strange, crossing onto the dark, rocky ground that made up the Claws. It was like a line separated it from the land around it, as if magic had dropped it on their world.
Which was essentially what had happened.
The landscape before him bore little resemblance to the world he knew. Jagged spires of rock thrust upward at improbable angles, their surfaces pitted and scarred as if charred by a roaring fire. What little vegetation clung to life here was twisted and malformed, leaves curled inward as if recoiling from the very air.
A gust of wind brought an eerie chorus of sounds, a high-pitched scraping intermingled with more of the strange chirps that set Osric’s teeth on edge. His friends looked as uneasy as he felt as they slowly ascended up the narrow and winding path.
“This place,” Talia said. “It makes my stomach hurt. It’s worse than that creature in the lake. It doesn’t belong here.”
“The veil is thin here, just like at the pond in Avendell,” Jasper said. “But unlike there, it doesn’t lead to a realm of benevolent gods. It leads to something much more twisted and dark. We must be careful.”
As if in response to his words, a tremor rippled through the ground beneath their feet. Osric stumbled, catching himself on a nearby boulder. The stone felt oddly warm to the touch.
“Watch your step,” Rowan cautioned. “Even without the tremors, the rock here is brittle. One wrong move and you could find yourself tumbling down the mountainside.”
Grace snorted. “Charming. Any other delightful features we should know about?”
Before Rowan could answer, a stronger tremor shook the earth. A cascade of rocks clattered down a nearby slope, kicking up clouds of dust. Cinder growled low in his throat, hackles raised.
“We are going to get crushed if we stay on this path,” Talia said.
“This is the only way through. We just need to keep going. It can’t be like this the entire way to the tower.”
“Now who’s being naive,” Grace said, lacking much of her normal joviality.
The fact that the constant rumbling was enough to dampen even her spirits was telling. It wasn’t just the rumbling. Osric might not be able to feel the magic that Talia could feel, but this place still felt wrong. As if eyes were watching him, tracking his progress.
As they passed a particularly narrow part of the trail where they could only walk single file through two tall, narrow rocks that resembled more pillars than a mountain face, Osric could see that the rock faces were scored with deep gouges, as if some massive beast had clawed its way through.
The others may not have seen it yet, but when Osric unsheathed his sword, the others followed suit. Thankfully, the path opened up much wider on the other side. It was still steep and they could still feel the tremors, but at least if something happened, they had a chance to dodge.
“We should spread...” Osric started, before Rowan held up a hand.
“Listen,” he whispered.
Osric strained his ears, at first hearing nothing but the whisper of wind through the rocks. Then, faintly, he caught it. The rhythmic scraping sound again, like metal on stone, but much closer than it was before, and definitely ahead of them.
“What is that?” Talia breathed, her voice barely audible.
“Nothing good,” Rowan said.
They continued forward, slowing here or there for a narrow spot or a particularly bad tremor, for over an hour, as they ascended higher and higher on the path, which twisted along the mountainside, curving in toward the center of the Claws.
The direction of the path put any view of the green plains they had left behind out of sight, making the trip feel all that much more cut off and isolating.
Even with that, they started speeding up, making good time, although mostly because none of them wanted to remain here any longer than necessary. Several times Rowan had to warn them to slow down, but most of the group wanted to keep moving as quickly as possible.
Rowan looked as if he was about to offer another warning when the ground beneath their feet. It felt as if the entire mountain had begun to tremble violently. The vibrations intensified rapidly, causing loose rocks to clatter down the steep, showering them with jagged pieces of stone.
“Look out!” Rowan shouted.
Osric followed where the Ranger was pointing, and felt his blood run cold. A massive section of the rock face was breaking away, sending a deadly avalanche of boulders and debris hurtling towards them.
“Run!” Osric yelled, his instincts kicking in.
He grabbed Talia’s arm and pulled her with him as he dove to the side. They hit the ground hard, Osric shielding her body with his own as rocks rained down around them.
The world became a chaos of noise and dust. Osric could hear the others shouting, but their voices were drowned out by the thunderous crash of falling stone. He held Talia tightly, praying that the others had found safety.
As the dust began to settle, Osric cautiously lifted his head and rolled off of her.
“Talia, are you alright?” he asked, his voice hoarse from the dust.
She nodded, coughing as she pushed herself up. “I’m fine. The others?”
Osric looked around frantically, relief washing over him as he saw Rowan and Grace emerging from behind an overhang where the Ranger had pulled them. Cinder at their side had apparently gone with them, still half under the rock face, perhaps for protection.
But his relief was short-lived as he realized someone was missing.
“Jasper? Jasper, where are you?”
A weak groan answered him. It took a moment for Osric to find him, and when he did, his heart sank. The cleric was pinned beneath a pile of rocks, his face was contorted in pain, blood trickling from a gash on his forehead.
“By the gods,” Osric breathed, rushing to Jasper’s side, the others close behind him.
Jasper coughed weakly and, in a raspy voice, said, “Leave me, You have to... keep going. The mission...”
“Be quiet,” Osric snapped as he turned to Talia. “Can you do something? Anything?”
Talia looked over Jasper and the large rock pinning him to the ground and nodded, her expression becoming determination. She closed her eyes, her hands moving in intricate patterns as she began to weave her magic. After a moment, some of the smaller rocks, and even one or two of the medium-sized ones, lifted off Jasper’s body, hovering in the air for a moment before clattering to the ground a few steps away.
The largest of the boulders, however, barely budged, trembling slightly before settling back into place. Jasper cried out in agony as the boulder shifted.
“I’m sorry,” Talia said, as she lowered her arm, sweat beading on her forehead. “They’re too heavy. I don’t know a spell powerful enough to move this much weight.”
Jasper’s eyes fluttered open, his eyes unfocused. “Please. Leave me. Do what you came to do.”
“I told you to be quiet,” Osric growled.
He wasn’t going to leave Jasper behind, not like this. Taking a deep breath, Osric moved to the large boulder pinning Jasper down. He planted his feet firmly on the unstable ground, bending his knees as he gripped the rough edges along the bottom of the rock.
“Osric, what are you doing?” Grace asked.
“What needs to be done,” Osric grunted, his muscles straining as he began to lift.
For a heart-stopping moment, nothing happened. The boulder seemed immovable, mocking his efforts. But Osric refused to give up, channeling every ounce of strength he possessed into this singular task. Rowan, Talia, and Grace ran over to join him, trying to help lift the boulder.
Slowly, agonizingly, the rock began to shift as they all put their entire bodies to the task. Osric’s arms trembled with the effort, sweat pouring down his face as he fought against the crushing weight. Inch by excruciating inch, they lifted the boulder off Jasper’s battered body.
“Pull him out!” Osric said through gritted teeth as he braced himself to be able to hold up the rock as one of them let go, his vision blurring from the strain.
Grace moved first, carefully pulling Jasper’s limp form from beneath the raised boulder. As soon as Jasper was clear, Osric let the rock drop, stumbling backward and gasping for air.
Jasper lay on the ground, his breathing shallow and labored. His face was deathly pale, and Osric could see the unnatural angles of broken bones beneath his torn clothing.
Kneeling beside his injured friend, Osric closed his eyes, reaching out to the Veilguard with every fiber of his being.
“Please,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Help me save him.”
As he placed his hands on Jasper’s battered body, Osric felt a warmth spreading through him. A soft, golden light began to emanate from his touch, enveloping Jasper in its gentle glow. The cleric’s breathing eased, and some color returned to his ashen face.
Jasper’s eyes fluttered open, relief replacing the pain that had clouded them moments before.
“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice weak but much steadier than a moment before.
Osric helped Jasper to his feet, supporting him as the cleric regained his balance. The others gathered around, their faces a mix of relief and lingering concern.
“Are you okay?” Osric asked.
The cleric felt along his legs, which had been clearly broken a moment before. His pants were cut and torn, but the skin underneath was whole again. Unblemished and unmarred.
“I am, thanks to you and the gods.”
“We need to keep moving,” Rowan warned. “That was too close and this whole cliff side could come down at any moment.”
Talia moved closer to Osric, her hand brushing his arm.
“Are you alright?” she asked softly. “That was... incredible, what you did.”
Osric managed a weak smile, still catching his breath. “I’m fine. I’m just glad we didn’t lose anyone.”
Before they could collect themselves and start forward again, a new sound cut through the air. At first, Osric feared it was the rock slide Rowan had warned about, but the sound was wrong. This was a rhythmic thumping, growing louder with each passing second.
Whomp... whomp... whomp...
The rhythmic thumping grew to a thunderous crescendo as dark shapes swooped over the cliffs to the west. Eight massive creatures that almost looked like moths descended upon them, their wings stretching wider than a man’s height, with blazing red eyes and snapping razor-sharp mandibles.
“Spread out,” Osric shouted, raising his sword.
The first moth darted toward Rowan with terrifying speed. The ranger tried to bring his bow up, but the creature struck before he could nock an arrow. Its mandibles tore into his shoulder.
Talia must have been adjusting to their new exciting life well because her hands started moving as soon as the creatures appeared, waving in front of her.
“Get back!” she yelled.
A small bead of orange fire shot from her fingertips, streaking between her companions before erupting into a massive fireball. The explosion engulfed all eight moths in searing flames. Their inhuman shrieks pierced the air as fire scorched their wings and bodies.
The creatures proved resilient. They emerged from the flames, their grey bodies blackened and still on fire in some places, but still airborne. One of the creatures dove at Grace. The thief tried to dodge, but they were incredibly fast for their size, the creature’s teeth tore into her arm.
“Damned oversized bugs!” Grace snarled.
She whipped an arrow from her quiver and loosed it point-blank into the moth’s thorax as it swooped back toward the sky. The shaft buried deep, dark ichor oozing from the wound. Rowan followed suit, steadying himself on a boulder enough to let an arrow follow after Grace’s, hitting another moth that was about to dive at Jasper.
The arrow didn’t kill the creature, but it did divert it.
Talia wasn’t as lucky, the talons of one of the creatures slashing across her back, leaving a trail of blood.
Fighting them was difficult. The narrow mountain path left little room to maneuver well, and the ground still trembled from aftershocks of the earlier rockslide, making their footing even more treacherous.
Worse, the creatures kept swooping down out of the sky and then back above them, in long arcs, making it difficult for both Grace and Rowan to strike at them.
As if to prove the point, Grace fired again, hitting another of the hairy-winged creatures with an arrow. The celebration was short-lived as Talia was again cut by one of the beasts. Osric moved to try and defend her better, but with the animals above him, it was impossible to block them from reaching her as he had done with previous dangers.
Another beast swooped low, aiming to get revenge for being burned earlier. Osric swung wildly overhead, trying to catch it before it got to her. Thankfully, even with a wild swing, he managed to hit it, his blade slicing across the creature’s body, opening its thorax and spilling its insides, sending it plummeting to the ground.
Talia’s face was pale from blood loss, but she wasn’t giving up. Her hands moved again in the way of her magic use. He almost expected another ball of fire to go streaking out, but instead, a powerful gust of wind erupted from her outstretched hands, slamming into five of the moths. The creatures, caught off guard, were thrown into the opposite cliff, smashing into it and then onto the ground. Not dead, but out of the sky for a moment.
She staggered from the effort and the cuts. Osric was about to go and help her when Jasper appeared at her side. He gripped her tightly and called upon Heathus’s healing power. The god, as it had many times before, heard his call, and her wounds stopped bleeding and closed, relief washing over her face as the pain ebbed.
“Thank you,” Talia gasped, her color returning.
But there was no time for conversation as the remaining creatures swept down at them.
Grace managed to dodge to the side as one of the beasts tried to clamp down on her, rolling and coming back on her feet.
“Blasted bugs!” she snarled, steadying herself against a jutting rock. “Can’t we just squash them and be done with it?”
“These aren’t ordinary insects,” Jasper called back, his voice tight with pain from his own wounds. “They’re creatures of chaos, born from the twisted magic of this place.”
As if to emphasize Rowan’s point, two of the moths unleashed a spray of corrosive spit. The acidic substance hissed as it struck the rocks around them, eating away at the stone.
“Watch out for their spit! It’ll burn right through you!” Osric said, narrowly avoiding a glob of the caustic substance and swinging at the creature as if flew past.
The blade caught the creature’s wing, tearing through the membranous tissue and sending it crashing to the ground, its severed wing rendering it earthbound.
Another moth took to the sky, climbing higher to prepare for another diving attack. Talia moved next to him, throwing her hands forward, sending a jet of flame out of her fingers in a wide spray, engulfing it before it could reach them. The creature’s shriek cut off as it plummeted from the sky, its body reduced to ash.
Jasper, who had used limited magic or divine favor, or whatever it was, to only heal them, surprised Osric.
Pointing at one of the creatures, he called out, “Heathus, bind this foul beast.”
It seemed to cause the beast to suddenly freeze mid-flight, its wings locking in place as if it was frozen and dropping to the ground like a stone.
“Strike now!” Jasper commanded. “The spell won’t hold it long!”
Osric didn’t have to be told twice, stabbing down with his sword, piercing through the eye of the creature and into its brain.
“Ground them if you can,” Osric yelled. “We can handle them on the ground.”
Grace’s was also starting to wear down from multiple cuts and bites, her arrow hitting a creature’s leg instead of its body, with minimal effect. Rowan did somewhat better, striking one of the creatures in the wing joint. It still flew, but its pattern was more erratic and it had lost much of its maneuverability with the shaft of the arrow embedded as it was, keeping it from flapping its wing fully.
“They’re slower when wounded!” Rowan called out.
Not that it was out of the fight. In fact, it seemed rage had taken over, as it abandoned all attempts at self-preservation and dove right at Rowan, latching onto him and trying to lift the Ranger, who weighed much more than it, into the air, all but immobilizing the creature.
Osric stabbed up as hard as he could, his sword sinking deep into the creature’s abdomen as it tried unsuccessfully to lift Rowan. While it was still difficult to dislodge it even dead, as its jaws seemed locked in place, at least it was no longer a threat.
Osric tried to pull his sword free quickly as another came swooping in, when suddenly a struggling moth came hurtling sideways, against any known mechanics of winged flight, smashing into the attacking moth with a satisfying crunch before both creatures dropped to the narrow path.
Talia had a look of intense concentration on her face, dropping her hands as the creatures fell. Osric had no idea how she’d done that, he knew she had.
“Now that’s more like it,” Grace said as she rolled out of the way of an attack. “Though I wouldn’t mind if you did that to the rest of them.”
“Working on it,” Talia said through gritted teeth.
The spell had clearly taken its toll. Osric knew the magic took a lot out of her, and she looked drained and tired already.
The last three months circled overhead, all injured to different degrees and flying unsteadily, but still dangerous as they swooped in to attack once more.
Osric readied himself as one came diving in at him when a gray blur shot past him, bouncing off a rock almost as a springboard and twisting over in mid-air. The wolf’s powerful jaws snapped shut on the injured moth’s thorax, putting his weight on the creature’s back. Both animals crashed to the ground, although Cinder managed to use the moth’s body to cushion his own fall. The moth thrashed wildly, but Cinder’s teeth clamped down again, crushing through its exoskeleton, and shaking hard, sending a spray of dark ichor against the rocks next to him.
Meanwhile, Talia reached out to one of the still-flying creatures, her fingers pinched together before drawing a clawing motion with her other hand. She touched her pinched fingers to the clawing hand and thrust forward. As she did, a greenish arrowhead materialized from her fingertips, slashing through the air and striking one of the remaining moths. The creature let out a shriek as the magical acid splashed over its body, causing it to smoke.
The beast tried to fly higher, maybe to escape what was causing it pain, but it only flapped a few times before the acid did its job. The moth’s wings slowed and stopped before spiraling downward, crashing into the rocks below.
“Only one left,” Grace said, nocking another arrow.
The final moth dove toward them, spraying acid in a wide arc. Osric dove to the side, tackling Talia and throwing her behind a boulder. The foul liquid just missed her, splashing against the stone.
The last moth wheeled around for another attack but found only empty air as arrows from Grace and Rowan forced it to veer off course. It climbed higher, preparing for one final assault.
“We need to end this quickly,” Rowan said, drawing another arrow. “These tremors are starting again.”
He was right. The ground beneath had begun to shutter again and small stones skittered down the mountainside, a warning of what might follow.
“Let’s not give it the chance,” Osric said, raising his sword. But there was no need.
The moth suddenly plummeted from the sky, as one of Rowan’s arrows found its spot, impaling a wing against the moth’s body. The creature spiraled widely, landing hard but on its claws still as it tried to pull its wing free.
Osric didn’t give it the chance, lunging forward and driving his blade through the moth’s head. The creature gave one final spasm before going still.
Osric’s chest heaved as he caught his breath, the adrenaline from the battle slowly ebbing away. He surveyed his companions. They were all injured, but still standing.
“Is everyone alright?” he asked, his voice hoarse from exertion.
“I’ll live. That was... intense,” Talia said.
“Understatement of the year,” Grace muttered, wincing as she prodded a nasty gash on her arm.
Jasper held his hands over the group and prayed. “Heathus be praised, we survived that onslaught. Help us and prepare us to continue to fight in your name.”
While it wasn’t as final as the magic he’d used on Grace earlier, and the gashes had not disappeared entirely, it was clear everyone felt somewhat better after his prayer.
Osric wondered why there was a difference, and if maybe helping them took something out of the gods, since they could clearly do more than this, when they wanted to.
Or maybe their favor was mercurial. They felt they had granted enough favors for today, and would do no more.
“We should move. There’s no telling if,” Rowan started to say, when they all heard a sound that was now much too familiar.
The rhythmic beating of wings again, but amplified tenfold. Osric’s blood ran cold as he looked up to see a swarm of moths coming over the side of the mountain, easily two dozen strong, descending upon them.
They could not survive this.
“Run!” Rowan shouted, already sprinting down the path.
Osric didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed Talia’s hand and bolted after the ranger, the others close behind. The narrow trail made their flight treacherous, loose stones skittering beneath their feet with each step, but none of them dared slow down.
Osric dared a glance back, only to push himself harder as he saw the swarm gaining on them.
“We can’t outrun them!” Grace yelled.
Talia paused, her hands flying through the air and pushing out hard, sending a wave of solid blue in the path of the massive insects. Several of them crashed into it and rebounded off, but it only held for a moment, before the blue shimmering field shattered. Thankfully the moths were not intelligent creatures and tested the air, flying around in a swarm instead of after them, yet to realize their path was clear again.
Osric pulled Talia hard, getting them back up to speed. They’d figure it out soon. The path ahead began to narrow, squeezing between two towering cliffs and Osric hoped it would slow the creatures down too.
As they burst through the narrow passage, the landscape before them shifted dramatically. The jagged, blackened rocks gave way to smoother, almost tannish stone, with a little more vegetation present.
The change in the landscape, however, wasn’t what drew Osric’s surprise.
The swarm hovered at the edge of the passage they’d just exited, their wings beating furiously. One spit a glob of green acid-like substance at them, but they were too far away and it fell short. They chittered and scraped at the stone, some even biting at one another in their frenzy, but they didn’t advance. It was as if an invisible wall separated them from their prey.
“What in the name of all the gods?” Grace breathed.
As they watched, more moths arrived, joining the swarm. Soon, there were easily fifty of the monstrous insects along the imperceptible boundary.
“It’s as if they’re afraid to cross. Even up there,” Talia said, pointing to the top of the stone where some of the insects had come over the two large pillars of stone that had fallen together, instead of trying to go through.
Even those, however, would not come to the other side.
“Whatever’s magic is keeping them at bay,” Osric said, “I’m grateful for it. We wouldn’t have lasted much longer against that many.”
“I’m not sure it’s magic,” Jasper mused.
“See, it’s saying things like that that make people not want to talk to you,” Grace said.
“Either way, we can’t go back and we still have a job to do. Let’s go.”
