Horror prevailed in the corridors and fortifications of the citadel Ragoss. No one expected that only a few dozens of warriors in long cloaks and weird masks could place the fortress under siege. Rumors were even more terrifying. Especially, the ones about a strange cult harbored by lord Garwin. It’s said he changed a lot recently; he looked peaky and became more grim than usual. Garwin started giving more and more strange orders, praying a new very weird god.
Later in the dead of the night, there was a hum under the citadel walls. It was a very shrill but incredibly loud sound as if a swarm of giant mosquitos flew into the arena mouthpiece. Tower archers unsuccessfully tried to see something, but it made no sense in the darkness.
And suddenly, rats started to fall from the skies…
“What the heck is going on, Dziani?” Agnello, staying in front of the doctor mosquito, was more surprised than angry.
“We don’t have time for a long siege, so now they might give up pretty soon. I gathered some rats and borrowed a few of Bartolo’s glasses with the plague and dropped it in the city.”
“Such a terrible decision… but… might be a good idea. Anyway, when the lord started to worship to the Disease Father, all of his people are inevitably doomed to death. So we cannot avoid victims. It’s better they die from a common form of plague than turn into crazy creatures serving this evil spirit.”
“You’re welcome, sir.” Enrico Dziani tried to bow in the air.
“But next time,” Agnello’s tone became stricter, “Don’t do anything without my orders, okay? The stakes are too high, and there aren’t so many of us left after all.”
The mosquito bowed once again, accepting both a warning and praise.
“Don’t forget how I got my flying machine.” Agnello looked at Enrico’s legs injured in battles, “And now… go and get more rats. The fortress will fall in a week.”