Cerubian

Cerubian was holding his new spear that his brother crafted for him. It was simply made, no adornment, but it was sturdily built. Even Bogdan was impressed with it's make,  he has fully recovered from his leg injury and is eager to get back into action.

After their brief encounter, many more instances of the Cults activities were reported to the Postelnic. He decided it was time to take measures, hypothesizing they could be foreign agents looking to cause trouble. He formed a task force led by Bogdan to deal with it.

Today they planned to march to Colesti, there have been reports of mysterious sheep deaths in the area. One herder stating ten of his flock have perished in the last few weeks.

Altogether there were five in their group: Big Matei, Little Matei, Sergiu, Bogdan and Cerubian. They got directions from the farmer to the site where his sheep met their end.

When the troop reached their destination, the sharp smell of iron assailed their senses, dried blood covered the grass in large quantities in the meadow, but there was no sign of the corpses. The sky suddenly darkened, imbuing the forest with a chilling malevolence, it was deathly silent, as if nature itself was holding it's breath in terror. 

"Okay lads we need to be careful, these are a dark, twisted bunch, fan out and protect each other's flank." Having encountered them previously, Bogdan wasn't taking any chances this time around.

After entering the thick woods and traversing for twenty minutes they came upon signs of activity.

Unholy activity, in a rocky grove, there was a circle traced in blood into the flat ground. Ten sheep skulls were placed evenly around the circumference. In the centre, was what appeared  to be a long dead mummified baby's remains. It had to be the most unsettling spectacle Cerubian had ever witnessed. Copious amounts of blood were flowing from each head, more than reasonably possible, ten crimson rivers all flowing towards the central point where the deceased babe was laying.

Big Matei was the first to fall from an unseen assailant, his head exploding from a powerful crossbow bolt.

Bogdan attempted to shout a warning, but it was only a gurgle of blood. The bolt entering his neck and destroying his windpipe. His eyes bulged in horror at the knowledge that certain death awaited him.

Cerubian did the only sensible thing, turned and ran, facing a force of unknown strength was foolhardy.

Behind him he could hear his remaining two comrades making the same decision. There was a cry of pain as another succumbed to the onslaught, they were being cut down like Autumn wheat.

Up ahead two black robed men jumped into Cerubian's path wielding hand axes. The first threw his weapon, it careened towards Cerubian's head painstaking slow. He was able to deflect it with his spear enough to avoid his skull getting cleaved in two.

Without slowing down he plunged the tip of his spear into the man's abdomen and wrenched up as violently as possible. The man screamed in agony as the razor sharp spear tip ripped through fat and sinew. His entrails cascaded out from the wound like a grizzly waterfall.

Cerubian hurled his spear at the other man, who was momentarily shocked by the gruesome disemboweling of his partner . Cerubian threw it with such a force, it knocked the man backwards onto the ground, now gasping because his lung was punctured.

Without breaking stride Cerubian stepped on the man's chest and wrenched the spear out spraying his snakeskin boots with the man's blood.

He heard another scream as the last of his troop fell, he was now alone against the multitude, suddenly missing the simple, safe life of the hammer and anvil.

A bolt entered the back of Cerubian's shoulder shattering the bone in the process and making him stumble.

Cerubian knew if he stopped running he was dead. He ran and he ran until he blacked out

He awoke in a place unfamiliar to him.