The hooded figure kept coming at them with measured and slow steps, the two lanterns swinging with a sound like distant iron on stone.
For a moment it seemed merely human-sized—then suddenly it grew.
The robes stretched into ragged banners, bone fragments lengthened into spines and ribs, and the thing swelled upward until it towered over the bone spires like some twisted giant.
Its head craned back and the lantern light flared, orange lanternfire licking the mist in wide swathes.
Then it made a sound.
It was not a shout or a cry but a deep and resonant vibration that rolled out from the figure and sank into the ground. The note was strange and incomprehensible in every way their ears expected. It sounded and felt like a bell that struck from inside their chest, a chorus of many inhuman voices that layered into one.
The sound hammered their skulls. Their teeth ground together. Some in the group felt nausea spike as if their own blood had turned to static.
