Sobbing, shoulders heaving, Taison stopped running upon reaching the forest’s edge. Those wretched ghasts were tracking him somehow… They had to be.
What had the lich done to him?
Calming himself, the cleric struggled to think back through the fog of images to his imprisonment in the frigid dungeon laboratory; what was it that the monster had said when Taison awoke? Something about… a… rune?
He’d have to find it.
The man began by removing his his shoes and socks and carefully examining every inch of his bare feet.
No… Not there…
This piece of flash fiction was written in response to: