Then I hear the howling getting closer. I freeze to determine its direction, then realize my idiocy to now be in the position Tryg the Nord was, in the path of whatever chilling sound echoed behind me. Not to concede whatever advantage I could recall in hindsight, I creep forward in a game of chicken between the edge of a blade and some unknown, gnashing monstrosity, "A-Alright, now get a move on will ya?"

The howling abruptly stops. My senses naturally go into overdrive to pick up even the faintest replacement uttered by the beast, and I swear there is a new droning or rumbling noise, connected or not. I stop short of Tryg, inexplicably frozen in his stance, from fear or indecisiveness? Well, the bloody lot that was worth throwing in, thinking any sod with a bit of steel could protect me, or at least prove a distraction. I turn my head back one more time for confirmation of the less pitiful of my choices, and meet several, glowing golden eyes.

My mind goes blank, and my legs start churning. I recall unceremoniously shoving the Nord to the side, leaving him to be swallowed by the fog or more. The howling starts once more, and seemingly bounces all over the place as my fear interprets it emanating from the choking, dense fog itself. As my energy begins to dwindle, my legs stumble in random directions and everything starts swerving around me, or perhaps the pitch dark ground tremors with the sound waves of a cacophony in pounding heart and nightmare fuel.

Coming into view, two figures in vague yet humanoid shapes appear. I right myself within that field of vision, but instead focus on the sharper image of some sort of doorway, a better haven than again negotiating for protection with someone that could be worse than a Viking. I rush past the two and throw the last of my strength into bull rushing the door, gasping, "Oh, f-fock, they're coming! They're coming!"

[@WXer][@Landaus Five-One]