Shrike felt her heart racing in her chest as she struggled against the chains holding her down. The cold stone of the altar against her bare skin did nothing to slow the sweat rolling down her forehead and chest as she heard the chanting growing louder. She needed to get out of here, and fast, before something terrible happened!
“Oh Dark One,” the lead cultist called out, stepping up to the altar with arms outstretched, staring beyond the girl to the statue she was bound before. “The time for your return is nigh—we gift this offering, to appease your desires, and welcome you into our world!”
Shit! Shrike wriggled more desperately against the chains—she as almost out of time! She needed help!
Hex had been hired to investigate a series of disappearances that had been happening for a few ten-day by the local city who's guards couldn't be spared or weren't brave enough to venture outside the city walls. He had found a strange hooded man and after some 'aggressive negotiations' the man had divulged the meeting place under an ancient crypt a mile outside the city limits. Once there he had made short work of the guards and let the other captives free, but had heard the tell tale signs of creepy chanting and one he couldn't leave that unspoiled.
He crept around a stone obelisk and saw the scene unfold. The tiefling wasn't versed in magic, but he could see a bad ritual when he saw one. The barbarian hefted a Javeline and sent the sharp tip right into the chanting one's throat before leaping in and dealt with the rest. Hex had become a mass of muscle, rage and whirling death. Now it was over, the magic from the ritual dissipating and he turned to the bound woman.
