The Blackstar Legacy
Copyright© 2026 by Lumpy
Chapter 7
The night spent in the shadow of the Claws had been an uneasy one, and Osric wasn’t sure anyone got enough rest. It was made worse by sounds, ranging from howls to strange clicking, that went on throughout the night.
At least it made it easy for everyone to be up and get an early start. They already knew they were going to have to spend one night on the way in and one night coming back out actually in the region of the Claws. Osric wanted to avoid having to add to that, so after putting the horses in the temporary corral Rowan had set up, they were on their way.
It was strange, crossing onto the dark, rocky ground that made up the Claws. It was like a line separated it from the land around it, as if magic had dropped it in their world.
Which was essentially what had happened.
The landscape before him bore little resemblance to the world he knew. Jagged spires of rock thrust upward at improbable angles, their surfaces pitted and scarred as if charred by a roaring fire. What little vegetation clung to life here was twisted and malformed, leaves curled inward as if recoiling from the very air.
A gust of wind brought an eerie chorus of sounds; a high-pitched scraping intermingled with more of the strange clicks that set Osric’s teeth on edge. His friends looked as uneasy as he felt as they slowly ascended the narrow and winding path.
“This place,” Talia said. “It makes my stomach hurt. It’s worse than that creature in the lake. It doesn’t belong here.”
“The veil is thin here, just like at the pond in Avendell,” Jasper said. “But unlike there, it doesn’t lead to a realm of benevolent gods. It leads to something much more twisted and dark. We must be careful.”
As if in response to his words, a tremor rippled through the ground beneath their feet. Osric stumbled, catching himself on a nearby boulder. The stone felt oddly warm to the touch.
“Watch your step,” Rowan cautioned. “Even without the tremors, the rock here is brittle. One wrong move and you could find yourself tumbling down the mountainside.”
Grace snorted. “Charming. Any other delightful features we should know about?”
Before Rowan could answer, a stronger tremor shook the earth. A cascade of rocks clattered down a nearby slope, kicking up clouds of dust. Cinder growled low in his throat, his hackles raised.
“We are going to get crushed if we stay on this path,” Talia said.
“This is the only way through. We need to keep going. It can’t be like this the entire way to the tower.”
“Now who’s being naive,” Grace said, lacking much of her normal joviality.
The fact that the constant rumbling was enough to dampen even her spirits was telling. And it wasn’t just the rumbling. Osric might not be able to feel the magic that Talia could feel, but this place still felt wrong. It felt like eyes were watching him, tracking his progress.
As they passed a particularly narrow part of the trail, where they could only walk single file through two tall, narrow rocks that resembled pillars more than a mountain face, Osric saw that the rock faces were scored with deep gouges, as if some massive beast had clawed its way through.
The others may not have seen it yet, but when Osric unsheathed his sword, they followed suit. Thankfully, the path opened up much wider on the other side. It was still steep and they could still feel the tremors, but if something happened, they at least had a chance to dodge.
“We should spread...” Osric started, before Rowan held up a hand.
“Listen,” he whispered.
Osric strained his ears, at first hearing nothing but the whisper of wind through the rocks. Then, faintly, he caught it. The rhythmic scraping sound again, like metal on stone, but much closer than it was before, and definitely ahead of them.
“What is that?” Talia breathed, her voice barely audible.
“Nothing good,” Rowan said.
They continued forward, slowing here or there to pass through a narrow spot or a particularly bad tremor, for over an hour, as they ascended higher and higher on the path, which twisted along the mountainside, curving in toward the center of the Claws.
The direction of the path put any view of the green plains they had left behind out of sight, making the trip feel all that much more cut off and isolating.
Even with that, they sped up, making good time, although mostly because none of them wanted to remain there any longer than necessary. Several times, Rowan had to warn them to slow down, but most of the group wanted to keep moving as quickly as possible.
Rowan looked as if he was about to offer another warning when the ground beneath their feet shook. It felt as if the entire mountain had begun to tremble violently. The vibrations intensified rapidly, causing loose rocks to clatter down the steep slope, showering them with jagged pieces of stone.
“Look out!” Rowan shouted.
Osric looked where the ranger was pointing, and felt his blood run cold. A massive section of the rock face was breaking away, sending a deadly avalanche of boulders and debris hurtling toward them.
“Run!” Osric yelled, his instincts kicking in.
He grabbed Talia’s arm and pulled her with him as he dove to the side. They hit the ground hard, Osric shielding her body with his own as rocks rained down around them.
The world became a chaos of noise and dust. Osric could hear the others shouting, but their voices were drowned out by the thunderous crash of falling stone. He held Talia tightly, praying that the others had found safety.
As the dust began to settle, Osric cautiously lifted his head and rolled off of her.
“Talia, are you alright?” he asked, his voice hoarse from the dust.
She nodded, coughing as she pushed herself up. “I’m fine. The others?”
Osric looked around frantically, relief washing over him as he saw Rowan and Grace emerging from behind an overhang where the ranger had pulled them. Cinder at their side had apparently gone with them, still half under the rock face, perhaps for protection.
But his relief was short-lived as he realized someone was missing.
“Jasper? Jasper, where are you?”
A weak groan answered him. It took a moment for Osric to find him, and when he did, his heart sank. The cleric was pinned beneath a pile of rocks, his face was contorted in pain, blood trickling from a gash on his forehead.
“By the gods,” Osric breathed, rushing to Jasper’s side, the others close behind him.
Jasper coughed weakly and, in a raspy voice, said, “Leave me, you have to ... keep going. The mission...”
“Be quiet,” Osric snapped as he turned to Talia. “Can you do something? Anything?”
Talia looked over Jasper and the rocks pinning him to the ground and nodded, her expression becoming determined. She closed her eyes, her hands moving in intricate patterns as she began to weave her magic. After a moment, some of the smaller rocks, and even one or two of the medium-sized ones, lifted off Jasper’s body, hovering in the air for a moment before clattering to the ground a few steps away.
The largest of the boulders, however, barely budged, trembling slightly before settling back into place. Jasper cried out in agony as the boulder shifted.
“I’m sorry,” Talia said, as she lowered her arms, sweat beading on her forehead. “It’s too heavy. I don’t know a spell powerful enough to move that much weight.”
Jasper’s eyes fluttered open, his eyes unfocused. “Please. Leave me. Do what you came to do.”
“I told you to be quiet,” Osric growled.
He wasn’t going to leave Jasper behind, not like this. Taking a deep breath, Osric moved to the large boulder pinning Jasper down. He planted his feet firmly on the unstable ground, bending his knees as he gripped the rough edges along the bottom of the rock.
“Osric, what are you doing?” Grace asked.
“What needs to be done,” Osric grunted, his muscles straining as he began to lift.
For a heart-stopping moment, nothing happened. The boulder seemed immovable, mocking his efforts. But Osric refused to give up, channeling every ounce of strength he possessed into this singular task. Rowan, Talia, and Grace ran over to join him, trying to help lift the boulder.
Slowly, agonizingly, the rock began to shift as they put their entire bodies to the task. Osric’s arms trembled with the effort, sweat pouring down his face as he fought against the crushing weight. Inch by excruciating inch, they lifted the boulder off Jasper’s battered body.
“Pull him out!” Osric said through gritted teeth as he braced himself to be able to hold up the rock as one of them let go, his vision blurring from the strain.
Grace moved first, carefully pulling Jasper’s limp form from beneath the raised boulder. As soon as Jasper was clear, Osric let the rock drop, stumbling backward and gasping for air.
Jasper lay on the ground, his breathing shallow and labored. His face was deathly pale, and Osric could see the unnatural angles of broken bones beneath his torn clothing.
Kneeling beside his injured friend, Osric closed his eyes, reaching out to the Veilguard with every fiber of his being.
“Please,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Help me save him.”
As he placed his hands on Jasper’s battered body, Osric felt a warmth spread through him. A soft, golden light began to emanate from his touch, enveloping Jasper in its gentle glow. After a short time the cleric’s breathing eased, and some color returned to his ashen face.
Jasper’s eyes fluttered open, relief replacing the pain that had clouded them moments before.
“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice weak but much steadier than it had been.
Osric helped Jasper to his feet, supporting him as the cleric regained his balance. The others gathered around, their faces a mix of relief and lingering concern.
“Are you okay?” Osric asked.
The cleric felt along his legs, which had been clearly broken just moments before. His pants were cut and torn, but the skin underneath was whole again. Unblemished and unmarred.
“I am, thanks to you and the gods.”
“We need to keep moving,” Rowan warned. “That was too close and this whole cliffside could come down at any moment.”
Talia moved closer to Osric, her hand brushing his arm.
“Are you alright?” she asked softly. “That was ... incredible, what you did.”
Osric managed a weak smile, still catching his breath. “I’m fine. I’m just glad we didn’t lose anyone.”
Before they could collect themselves and start forward again, a new sound cut through the air. At first, Osric feared it was the rockslide Rowan had warned about, but the sound was wrong. This was a rhythmic thumping, growing louder with each passing second.
Whomp ... whomp ... whomp...
The rhythmic thumping grew to a thunderous crescendo as dark shapes swooped over the cliffs to the west. Eight massive creatures that almost looked like moths descended upon them, their wings stretching wider than a man’s height, with blazing red eyes and snapping razor-sharp mandibles.
“Spread out,” Osric shouted, raising his sword.
The first moth darted toward Rowan at a terrifying speed. The ranger tried to bring his bow up, but the creature struck before he could nock an arrow. Its mandibles tore into his shoulder.
Talia must have been adjusting well to their new, exciting life because her hands started moving as soon as the creatures appeared, waving in front of her.
“Get back!” she yelled.
A small bead of orange fire shot from her fingertips, streaking between her companions before erupting into a massive fireball. The explosion engulfed all eight moths in searing flames. Their inhuman shrieks pierced the air as fire scorched their wings and bodies.
The creatures proved resilient, though. They emerged from the flames, their grey bodies blackened and still on fire in some places, but still airborne. One of the creatures dove at Grace. The thief tried to dodge, but they were incredibly fast for their size, and the creature’s teeth tore into her arm.
“Damned oversized bugs!” Grace snarled.