A Statue!

In the dimly lit corridor, the flickering candles cast eerie shadows along the stone walls, their yellow flames dancing in the soft evening breeze. The light and shadow mingled with the outline of the maple tree outside, painting grotesque shapes on the walls; twisting forms that almost seemed alive, like creatures baring their fangs in silent roars.

Luther stood silently in the shadows, his eyes narrowed in thought. He'd returned from the library with an uneasy feeling gnawing at him. Something didn't sit right. Everything had gone too smoothly; the books he needed, those critical ancient texts, had been exactly where he'd thought to look, as if someone had left a trail just for him. And the people he'd spoken to… one or more of them must have been involved.

It dawned on him that the entire situation reeked of a trap. Whoever was behind this wasn't merely leading him to knowledge; they were baiting him, luring him in. But were they after him specifically, or just anyone with an interest in the Gugre language?

A dark smile crept onto Luther's face. Fine, he thought. I'll play along. Let's see who's really pulling the strings here. If they were truly after him, he wouldn't have to wait long. They'd come.

He shifted his gaze toward the spiral staircase at the end of the corridor. The next person to descend could very well be his pursuer. His eyes traveled to the two statues standing nearby; a man and a woman, carved in exaggerated, almost idealized forms. The man was muscular, almost hulking, while the woman was soft and voluptuous, their bodies reflecting the aesthetic ideals of this era.

He approached the statues, planning to hide behind the female figure, but a sudden, pungent odor hit him; a sharp, sour stench, as if something was rotting beneath the stone surface. Grimacing, he stepped back and moved toward the male statue instead, finding it mercifully free of the smell. Here, in the shadows and with his skill, he could blend in perfectly.

Luther focused, activating a racial ability he'd acquired from the Touch of Plague, Blur. His form shimmered and began to fade, merging with the dim light and shadows. From a distance, he would appear as nothing more than part of the statue's shadow. Only someone very close, and very observant, might notice the faint outline of his figure.

Footsteps echoed from above, and a man descended the staircase. Luther watched closely, his senses sharp. The man's face looked familiar. As the figure came closer, recognition struck, this was the same man who'd helpfully pointed out the location of the ancient books, the one who'd seemed almost too eager to assist. There was something strange about him now, though, something… off. Luther's nose twitched. The smell of canned herrings hung faintly around him; a smell that hadn't been there before.

As the man muttered to himself, Luther listened, each word revealing something about his intent. "Stupid woman… wasting my time on the second floor, making me look up books for her. But she had a figure worth the trouble."

The man's voice was laced with bitterness and impatience, but also something darker. "If she wasn't a noble, I would've made her beg for mercy," he sneered under his breath, a twisted smile creeping across his lips. Luther's stomach twisted in disgust. This man was no simple scholar; he was dangerous, cruel, and he was slipping out of whatever mask he'd worn to appear harmless.

As the man reached the bottom of the stairs, Luther noticed something even more disturbing. The man's bald head seemed to stretch slightly, the skin rippling as scales began to sprout, tiny and glistening. His eyes bulged, protruding grotesquely, and a pair of gills opened up on his neck, twitching with each breath.

"Excitement's got him slipping," Luther murmured to himself, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched.

The man's voice broke into a low, guttural chuckle, a laugh that bordered on madness. "What's the harm in showing myself now?" he muttered, his tone both eager and unhinged. "After all, even if a human sees us… they're nothing more than food!"

The man's eyes shone with a predatory hunger as he moved toward the far end of the corridor, clearly on the hunt for something or someone. Luther's suspicions solidified. This was no ordinary human. The creature had been waiting, lurking in the library, setting bait. And now, it seemed, he was ready to catch his prey.

But Luther wasn't the easy target he appeared to be. Hidden in the shadows, he waited, watching every move, calculating his next step. Whoever this creature was, he'd soon find out that Luther was no ordinary man, either.

"Lilu Lilu Lilu Lilu…"

"Pfft!"

Luther watched, horrified, as the fish-headed creature performed some strange ritual in front of the female statue across from him. Goosebumps prickled up his arms.

"So that smell earlier... it was from this thing!" he muttered to himself, struggling to stifle a grimace. "Is this thing... obsessed with statues?"

In broad daylight, under the clear sky, the creature continued its bizarre actions, completely unashamed. Luther found the whole spectacle unsettlingly absurd. Here he was, using his blur ability for the first time, and he ended up an unwilling audience to this... scene.

Though disturbing, he noted one thing: the blur didn't just conceal his presence; it also seemed to mask his scent and aura. A valuable trait, indeed.

"Time to go fishing tomorrow," the fish-headed creature murmured, finally finishing whatever it was doing. "But now... time to go back and pamper my little shrimps!"

As it spoke, the creature morphed back into its human disguise, rubbing its face affectionately against the statue one last time before reluctantly pulling away.

Luther, hidden in the shadows, gave a silent, sarcastic thumbs-up. "You are something else…."

Once the fish-headed man left, Luther trailed behind at a safe distance, watching as the figure strolled down the quiet East Street. The surrounding shops were closed, and the street was silent, save for the monster's footsteps echoing off the cobblestone.

Greg; if that was his name, pulled his black robe tighter around himself, shivering slightly. "Strange… I haven't felt cold since I became a true follower. Why do I feel this chill?"

He paused, casting a glance over his shoulder. Though the street appeared empty, an inexplicable sensation of being followed gnawed at him. He kept hearing faint footsteps, but every time he looked back, the shadows were empty.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered to himself, rubbing his arms as if to shake off the feeling. "Maybe it's from… doing too much 'puffing' recently?"

He whispered a quick prayer under his breath. "Goddess bless, I'm just being paranoid…"

Steeling himself, Greg continued down the street, but froze when he felt a cold touch on his shoulder.

"Hsss…"

A strange whisper floated to his ears from directly behind him. His whole body went rigid, his legs trembling despite himself. For a brief moment, his mind went blank.

"It's over… I've encountered a monster!" he thought, panic surging through him. Then, realization dawned, and anger flickered to life. "Wait! I am Greg, a folower! I am not some helpless fool!"

With newfound resolve, he spun around, face contorting as his transformation re-emerged. His mouth stretched grotesquely, splitting nearly to his ears, revealing rows of sharp, serrated teeth. His tongue flicked out, green and spotted, as he let out a silent but primal roar.

"Who dares?" he bellowed, voice dripping with malice. "Who thinks they can frighten Lord Greg?!"

He beat his chest, puffing himself up in a display of intimidation, stamping his feet as if to assert his strength.

But from behind, hidden in the shadows, Luther simply shook his head, holding his forehead with a sigh of exasperation. "What a fool."

He glanced down at the stone in his hand, then back at the fish-headed creature's skull. He weighed it thoughtfully. "Yeah… about the right size for this rock."

The creature's bravado evaporated when Luther suddenly stepped forward. Its eyes widened as it realized it was outmatched.

"Oh! Oh oh oh!" it babbled incoherently, its knees buckling as it collapsed to the ground, trembling, the arrogant bluster gone in an instant.

Luther didn't waste a second. With a sharp swing, he brought the stone down on the creature's head with a satisfying thud. The fish-headed creature's eyes rolled back, and it slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Wiping his hands off, Luther muttered, "Didn't even want to dirty my dagger on you." He stepped back, surveying his handiwork with a grim satisfaction before disappearing back into the shadows, leaving the creature sprawled on the cobblestone, lifeless and defeated.