Another came at him, opening its mouth wide, and he stabbed it in the chest, shattering it. One came at him from the side and no sooner had he smashed it with his shield then another came from his other side.

Duncan spun and slashed left and right, shattering these things in every direction as their claws reached for him. Anvin found him, and the two fought back to back in the fog. Anvin swung his flail, its spiked balls swinging overhead and smashing fog walkers as they collapsed in heaps all around them.

Seavig hit the ground beside Duncan’s, rolling on his back and swinging with an axe, chopping fog walkers out of the sky. The group stuck together, guarding each other’s backs, fighting as one as they fended off the creatures.

Yet all around them the cries of agony continued, too many of their men getting killed by these things which came out of nowhere, as if they were one with the fog. There seemed to be a never-ending stream of them, as if the lake were churning them out in its vapors. Duncan spun and slashed one, sparing Seavig right before he was bitten in the back—but as he did, Duncan suddenly felt sharp claws digging into his back. He reached around and grabbed the creature and threw it over his head, stepping on it and smashing it. But as soon as he did, another latched onto him and began suctioning his arm. Seavig stepped forward and smashed it to bits with his axe—while Anvin lunged forward and stabbed another through its open mouth before it landed on Duncan’s neck.

The air was filled with the sound of bones clattering as men fought back bravely. A wind blew in and lifted the fog for a moment and as it did, Duncan saw piles of bones, hundreds of dead fog walkers littering the shores. Yet in the distance, he was horrified to see thousands more fog walkers emerging from the mist and flying towards them, howling their awful high-pitched howl.

“There are too many!” Anvin yelled out.

“To the waters!” Seavig yelled. “Into the lake! All of you! It is our last chance!”

Duncan was horrified at the thought.

“The Lake of Ire?” Duncan called back. “Does it not swarm with creatures?”

“It does!” Seavig called. “But a possible death is better than a certain one!”

“TO THE WATERS!” Duncan commanded, shouting out to his men, realizing their situation was helpless otherwise.

Horns sounded and as one, their men ran for the lake. Duncan ran with them, wading in, a great splashing noise rising up as they all could not get in fast enough. As he entered, Duncan was surprised to find the red waters to be warm and sticky, thick, as if he were running into quicksand. He waded in deeper, up to his chest, and the water grew hotter as he did, bubbling and hissing.