Francis Quizzed

“These demons are an angry group”, agreed Francis to Robin telepathically.

They both knew that the men around them would be best kept from such talk, and were used to such consultation in private. And so although in a seeming silence, they chatted backward and forth.

“They come from an angry place”, nodded Robin - and then added: “not metaphorically, but in reality - the isles of the Liquorice moors.”

Francis squinted and gestured - “a joke?”

“No, no - an observation. The lands have been warring for two centuries and are often provoked all too easily. These are their offspring - these ghouls of antiquity. They must have been attached to the beasts in order to move their location.”

This was precisely what had troubled Francis from his first sighting them. He knew that they were not your ordinary garden variety goblin or demonic entity. They had a malice far stronger than most.

“They feed on salt water, brine and the weed of the sea - and when they are far from the waters and have nought to sustain them, they then anger tenfold.”

”“Have you then brought salt?”

“I have not”, the tall monk answered.

“Have you then brought anything that might help?” Francis quizzed (in his mind of course).

“I have not.”

-Gabriel Brunsdon, AZLANDER: NEVER ENDINGS: Second Chances