Chapter 26: Captured by the Redcaps
They fought with everything they had.
Kalo’s fists were raw, bruised from the countless fey he struck down. Magic flared around him, bursts of force sending Redcaps flying into the mud. His breath came in short gasps, sweat and blood mixing on his face. Beside him, Lukan fought with deadly precision, his spear spinning in wide arcs, cutting through the enemy like a reaper in the fields. His slingshot cracked in quick succession, each stone finding a mark—a shattered nose, a blinded eye, a broken tooth.
The weasels fought like cornered beasts.
Sneazel crouched low, his crossbow snapping up, loosing a bolt into an approaching Redcap’s thigh. It howled in pain, only for Mudtoe to dart forward, reaching into his coat.
The sharpened darts flickered between his fingers.
He whipped his hand out—three darts embedded into the neck of a charging Brownie. It gurgled, collapsing in the filth. Mudtoe grinned wickedly, already reaching for more.
The faun swung his flute with practiced precision, knocking the legs from under a charging fey, sending it sprawling into the mud. He planted a hoof against its chest, pinning it down.
They had come so close.
And then—the tide shifted.
A whip cracked through the air.
A familiar, grating voice shrieked with glee.
"DIE IN THE DIRT, YOU FILTHY VERMIN!"
Grimp.
The Brownie stood atop a heap of broken machinery, eyes wild, whip snapping in his gnarled hands.
The lash wrapped around Kalo’s throat, yanking him back. He gasped, fingers clawing at the burning leather. His magic flared, but Grimp only laughed, pulling tighter.
Lukan turned at the sound—only for a Redcap to slam into his ribs, knocking him down. His spear skidded away into the muck. He scrambled for it, but claws seized his arms, dragging him back.
Sneazel fired another bolt, striking a Brownie in the gut—but before he could reload, three Redcaps tackled him, pinning him against the mud.
Mudtoe whipped another dart into a Redcap’s shoulder, but a boot cracked against his jaw. He stumbled, growling, as more of the fey swarmed over him.
And then—Mr. Thornwick broke free.
The badger roared, barreling through the fey, claws flashing. He sent a Brownie flying, its body slamming into the dam wall. A Redcap lunged for his throat—he caught it by the skull and hurled it aside.
For a moment—just a moment—it looked as if he might make it.
But then—
Grimp’s whip lashed out again.
It coiled around Mr. Thornwick’s ankle, yanking him off his feet. He crashed into the mud, struggling. Before he could rise, they swarmed him.
Clawed hands grabbed his fur, dragging him down. Redcaps, Brownies, creatures that had once feared him now held him fast.
And standing above them all, untouched by the filth, the fire, and the blood—
The Blue Wizard.
He ordered the captured group to the dam wall's top to hand out his punishment.
He watched with mild amusement, the enchanted pitchfork hovering lazily in his grasp.
His lips curled.
“The broomstick is destroyed,” he mused, turning the pitchfork in his hands. “And soon, you will be too.”
With a flick of his wrist, the weasels were dragged forward.
“Bind them,” he commanded. “Let the pitchfork carry them to the White Walls—to their deaths.”
The weasels kicked, cursed, spat obscenities, but the fey forced them toward the enchanted weapon.
And then—
It rose into the air, twisting like a living thing.
The last thing Kalo heard before they were carried off into the night was the weasels’ furious, defiant cries:
“YA THINK THIS IS ENOUGH TO KILL MUDTOE AND SNEAZEL, YA BLUE BASTARD?! YA NEED MORE THAN A DAMN PITCHFORK!”
The wizard only laughed.
And beside him, Mr. Thornwick watched them disappear into the sky—his eyes filled with grief.
Entered by: 0xe9a1…78d3
Chapter 27: Mr. Thornwick's Death
The sky was darkening, the dam towering like a jagged, merciless giant above them. The group of captives stood in a grim line at the edge, their fates sealed by the cold hands of fate. Mr. Thornwick’s heart thudded heavily in his chest as he watched helplessly, bound and broken, his body trembling with anger and sorrow.
Before him, the weasels were dragged to the top of the dam by the possessed pitchfork, glowing with an eerie, malevolent light. Their small forms struggled in the air as they were tied to the cursed implement, shrieking in terror. Thornwick could hear their cries—sharp, pained shrieks that cut through his very soul.
His breath caught in his throat as he watched them disappear into the sky. The pitchfork shot them upward, and for one fleeting moment, Thornwick’s heart clenched in helplessness as the weasels vanished from sight, their cries fading into the endless sky above. They were gone.
Thornwick’s sobs racked his body, his heart breaking at the injustice. But then, something within him snapped. A fire ignited in his chest—an uncontrollable wave of anger that poured out of him in a single, raw scream. No more.
His mind was consumed by the image of the weasels’ torment—dragged into the air, their fates sealed by the blue wizard’s dark magic. Thornwick’s hands were bound, but it didn’t matter. His body was no longer his own. He felt the surge of fury rise up, overpowering everything.
Without thinking, he pounced, his body crashing into Grimp, the brownie who had tormented him for so long. Grimp, caught completely by surprise, flailed wildly as Thornwick tackled him with a primal force, knocking both of them to the ground. The badger’s furious laugh bellowed out, shaking the very air around him. It was a laugh born from madness, from release—the laugh of a creature who had nothing left to lose.
“Free!” Thornwick roared, his voice wild with unrestrained glee. Grimp screamed as Thornwick shoved him toward the edge of the dam, and together, they tumbled over the side. The brownie’s shriek was cut off as they both plummeted toward the jagged rocks below, the wind howling around them.
But just before the ground could meet them, a crack echoed through the air—a sudden whip of Grimp’s enchanted lash, coiling around Thornwick’s neck in a desperate final act of retaliation. The impact sent them both careening toward the jagged rocks below, but in the chaos of their fall, Thornwick’s laughter did not stop.
The badger’s throat was ensnared by the whip, his body swinging lifelessly at the end of it. His soul was finally at rest.
Grimp’s small form impaled on a jagged log, the very one Thornwick had intended to take down with him. The brownie's body was lifeless, impaled on the log below. Thornwick’s own body hung by the neck, lifeless too, swaying gently in the wind.
The blue wizard, standing at the edge of the dam, glanced down. The sight of Grimp’s impaled corpse and Thornwick’s lifeless form hanging by the whip was almost too much to bear. His eyes narrowed, lips curling into a sneer of disgust.
“Fooooool!” he bellowed, his voice echoing through the still night.
But for Thornwick, there was no more pain, no more torment. He had fallen. The badger was free.
Entered by: 0xe9a1…78d3
