Caer-Dineval has been silent ever since those guys in black armor shipped out of old castle. No mention of the town speaker that was supposedly sick and dying inside. No mention to anyone about anything. We woke up one morning and they were gone. The sick have moved in since then. Guard it like they’re under siege. But no one’s trying to get in.
Marco’s been acting strange recently. Stays in his hut. His corn is dying. Well, more than it was. He’s got a scarecrow out front, as if there are any crows to scare away. Haven’t seen him in a long time. I used to sit in my fathers cottage and watch him work. Now all I do is look at the scarecrow. I swear, sometimes I wake up and it’s facing an entirely different direction.
There’s a stranger in town today. Some sort of elf, pale skin, white like snow. Poked around Marco’s cottage. Guess that means he’s not inside anymore. No idea what she found in there, but she looked determined on the way out. Walked with purpose. Only paused to re-inspect the garden on her way out.
The scarecrow went missing while she was inside.
Just after Marco dissapeared I heard tale of a new kind of sick. Someone had gotten the plague, not uncommon, but it’d gotten bad, real quick. Apparently, they shipped him through town. People saw black growths underneath the sheet they used to cover him. They put him in the old inn, it’s abandoned now. A week later they found another just like him. People cared for them for a while, but now the inn sits abandoned. People say they’re surely dead by now, that dragon plague is always fatal. This didn’t sound like dragon plague. I’m not so sure they’re dead.
The castle bells tolled tonight. Didn’t much matter, the scream woke everyone up beforehand. I stayed in my cottage, but I could see distant sillhouettes on the castle walls. Men fighting… i hesitate to call them other men. Taller, stronger, faster. They didnt move like men. A few moments later, there were some flashes of white light. No one in the village can do anything like that. Must have been the elf.
Not much has happened since then. Marcos scarecrow never came back. The elf settled down in town I hear. Tends to the sick in the inn, goes out to hunt sometimes. My curiosity overwhelmed me. I slipped inside while she was out.
They’re still alive in there, but I don’t know how. Black mold and stone cling to their forms. I can’t tell if they even have lungs, but I know they’re breathing. I can still hear the rasp in my nightmares. Whatever caused that, it definitely isn’t dragon plague. Still, the elf doesn’t seem worried. Those grotesque men were in a sound sleep. Their eyes looked… peaceful. I’m glad she’s around.
I wonder where Marco went. I hope he’s okay.