Portraits of the Divine

The fog clung thicker near the southern edge of the city, rolling in low between the stilted buildings. Wooden causeways narrowed here, rising slightly as they met the old gate where Lothar had told them to go if they wanted to join other groups who might be taking the job. The gate was nothing more than a sagging arch of dark timber and rusted iron, flanked by leaning posts draped with faded warning cloth. Beyond it, the swamp of tangled reeds, waterlogged ruins, and a stretch of broken stonework lost to time sat. 

Joren adjusted the strap of his satchel, breath misting faintly in the chill morning air. "This must be it." Gus nodded beside him, eyeing the path ahead. "Looks like not many people want to take up this bounty, guess it's just us." Joren nodded, gaze drifting across the empty walkway. Only a few old boot prints marked the damp boards, already softened by the mist. Before they could move further, a voice called lightly from the side. "You finally made it." The girl leaned against one of the slanted posts, one boot braced behind her and her arms crossed. Her hair was wild and long, playing into her independent and mischievous nature. 

Gus gave a faint grin. "Didn't think we'd find you here, what changed?" Her green eyes sparkled faintly. "Didn't think you'd show. Most people that take up the job get scared off by the stories, it's no joke." Her gaze drifted between them, settling on Joren a moment longer. "Still planning to tag along?" Joren straightened slightly. "If that's all right." She gave a faint shrug. "I'm not here to lead anyone. You follow at your own risk. My name's Willow, nice to formally meet you." Joren gave a small nod. "Joren." Gus tipped his head. "And I'm Gus." Willow's mouth curved into a faint smirk. "Good, now we know who to blame if this goes wrong. I noticed yesterday, are you an Auspex?" Joren tensed slightly, caught off guard by the question. He hesitated. "Something like that..." Willow's eyes glinted with curiosity. 

Afternoon – Outskirts 

The sun hung dim behind thick cloud, the humidity never fully lifting in this part of Duskfen. Tall reeds and hanging moss pressed close to the crumbling walls. Water pooled in the cracked flagstones. Every sound seemed to be of bugs and birds, this was truly a part of town that was abandoned to the beast. Willow led the way, moving easily through the damp undergrowth, hair gliding like silk. Joren kept pace a few strides behind. 

After a long moment of quiet, Gus spoke up. "So... Willow, what exactly is that power we saw yesterday?" Willow glanced over her shoulder, a wide smirk playing at her lips. "It's the Shapeshifting portrait, but I like to use it for more creepy transformations." Gus chuckled softly. "Creepy works. You sure got that merchant rattled." She laughed, a light, quick sound. "Half the fun is seeing who flinches, though it's more than just parlor tricks. It's not exactly a fighting type of power, but I can scare off most anything that isn't familiar with my abilities." 

Joren tilted his head slightly. "You can't fight with it?" Willow grinned. "Oh, I can, just not like a brute. It's more... intimidation, disruption, things like that." She stepped carefully over a patch of slick stone, her voice light. "If they're scared enough, they make mistakes and that's when it counts." Gus chuckled. "So are you ranked? I didn't see you pop up in one of the old ranking books in the library yesterday." Willow gave a small laugh. "Eclipse, supposedly." Gus raised a brow. "Supposedly?" She shrugged one shoulder. "I was registered in it two years ago as an Oracle, but I don't get into altercations too often, so they haven't kept tabs on me." 

Gus gave a small nod. "Makes sense. You don't exactly seem the type to go picking fights with people." Willow smirked. "I've got better things to do." She glanced back at Joren, green eyes curious. "And you? New, I'm guessing?" Joren hesitated. "I have the Supernova portrait, but I don't know if I plan to use my powers anymore." Willow arched a brow but didn't press. "You'll figure it out." Her tone was light but certain. "Most of us do... when we have to." She stepped over a stretch of crumbling stone, eyes flicking toward the narrow path ahead. The air felt thicker here, the sounds of birds and insects fading. Willow's voice dropped slightly. "Stay sharp now, we're getting close to the area I scouted the past few days." 

Late Afternoon – The Ruins 

The path narrowed, half-swallowed by creeping vines and slick moss. Pools of stagnant water reflected the dim light in pale, broken shapes. Joren glanced around, the shift in the air tightening something in his chest. The earlier buzz of life was gone now, replaced by breezes from the wind moving cattails and long grass. Gus scanned the crumbling walls ahead. "Doesn't feel right." Willow moved with purpose, voice low. "It isn't. I marked a few signs ahead... whatever this thing is, it's been nesting near the old arches, and it's huge." Gus tightened his grip on the strap across his shoulders, clearly nervous. "Bigger than what Lothar made it sound." Willow gave a sharp nod. "Much." 

The three of them pressed on, weaving between leaning walls and half-flooded pathways. Ahead, the path opened into a low, ruined courtyard with tons of water submerging it. Shattered stone pillars jutted from the surface at odd angles, tangled with vines and moss. At the far end, the crumbling remnants of the old arches loomed, half-choked by hanging roots. Joren slowed, scanning the flooded space. The water was murky, almost black, broken only by the occasional ripple. A faint breeze stirred the reeds. The stillness pressed down on them, thick and tense. Joren felt the hair along his arms rise, a deep unease settling into his chest. The silence stretched. Then deep, resonant grrouuughhh followed by click... click... click... click. 

Willow's eyes narrowed, her voice a breath. "It's here. The surface of the water rippled once, then again, slow and deliberate. A dark shape shifted beneath the murk, too large, too slow for any normal creature. Gus drew his hammer with a quiet motion, Joren clutched a small blade from the market. Joren swallowed, his pulse quickened. The weight of the air grew heavier, the deep hum of unseen energy stirring faintly in his core felt like a portrait was to blame for the atmosphere. Gus frowned, voice low. "That's no normal swamp beast." 

A sharp breeze rattled through the reeds followed by a deep groan of stressed stone. One of the old arches shuddered, a chunk of moss-covered rock splitting free and falling into the water with a heavy splash, and then it fell silent. No clicks, no movement, just the oppressive stillness of the courtyard, as if the place itself was holding its breath. Joren's skin prickled, pulse loud in his ears. His mind flashed back to the pages from the library: Alligator. It is said to be a beast native to the area, something he had never heard of before. The world seemed to become so large, or maybe they were shrinking. It felt like they were about to fight a mountain, as if a giant was about to step on them. It must be the power of a portrait, but what could it be? 

Joren's mind raced, but no answers came. The weight in the air deepened, pressing against his ribs, against his throat. Every instinct screamed that something was coming, something massive. Willow shifted her stance, her voice a quiet thread. "Stay sharp." Gus said nothing now, only bracing his hammer, gaze fixed on the dark water in a nervous stupor. The arches groaned again, another long crack spreading along one ancient pillar. It was a giant portrait-born horror and it was waking from it's slumber.