Mud sputtered and spat through the air as a jet of water hard as steel gouged through the ground. A few feet away, another patch of mud dried so fast that it cracked with an earsplitting shriek. Yet, Ellie let none of that bother her. Her big brother Galler was at her side, grumbling in the gruff way he usually did, but he would make sure she stayed out of range from any of the wayward attacks from the heroes up above. Instead, Ellie poured her focus onto the current situation, disregarding the heroes, who she couldn’t directly affect, in favor of what she could potentially do to help out Mr. Mavier beat up all the bad guys chasing them.

Still, even though the pair had been walking around the network of trenches for a few minutes, no one had really showed up. No humans, no demons, or anyone of any other race, as a matter of fact. The closest that she had seen to any sort of human presence was the odd sight of a few sets of discarded, muddy armor. However, when Ellie and Galler had looked closer, it had seemed like the armor had recently been in use by someone. Galler said it was most likely a human or elf judging by its size after Ellie had pressed one of the breastplates into his hands. And, as even she knew, it couldn’t have been long abandoned due to the complete lack of rust that would have accumulated on the metal after even a few days in all the muck. Ellie just couldn’t quite figure out what she should do in that situation. She could hear the occasional sounds of fighting, along with what she could have sworn was laughter, but she never saw a single soul.

Despite the lack of progress, however, Ellie continued to broaden her search, ranging with Galler through the trenches until finally, after over ten minutes of constant searching, Ellie spotted the bulky figure of an orc in the distance, right next to a much shorter figure of either a human or a half-elf. It was sort of difficult to tell at their distance. Ellie nudged Galler in the side, causing his head to snap up to alertness, his hands raising in an aggressive stance, almost as if he was beckoning the strangely silent people that always dragged behind him to rise.

Ellie squinted her eyes, trying her hardest to see past the glare of the morning sun in order to get even a single additional detail if she could.

Definitely two. Their hands are at their sides, are they bored or tired? Ellie couldn’t quite understand why they looked so relaxed, so out of place from what she had heard about people were in battles from the stories her dad used to lull her to sleep with. Well, at least they haven’t seen us yet.

She tapped Galler’s side again, and they picked up their speed until Ellie was able to crouch with her belly shoved into the mud not even ten feet behind the soldiers, her eyes and ears alert for any movement from them, any at all. Mud squelched as the men and women behind Galler jerkily moved forwards, each one clutching a sharp rock or a belt knife ready to whip out and strike without hesitation.

And then… Ellie let out a small gasp as the orc and what she now realized was a half-elf creakily turned around to look at her. Even though Galler’s friends had closed the distance and were between Ellie and the soldiers, those soldiers looked at her.

No! It’s like they’re ignoring the others, even big brother Galler, looking straight through them to me!

Ellie shivered, despite the tattered warmth of her precious poncho, and edged backwards. Then, Galler’s friends abruptly stopped, not moving a single muscle as the two soldiers seemed to get… shorter? She blinked hard, and then opened her eyes wide to make sure that she was seeing things right.

Yup, they were getting shorter.

First it was by not even the width of a finger, and then an inch, and then a foot, until Ellie realized that they were not becoming shorter people, but…

They were sinking into the mud.

Without a single change of expression, without a single trace of panic, or even emotion in their eyes or faces. The orc and the half-elf simply stared at her as their feet sank into the muck. As their knees followed suite with a faint ‘slorping’ sound. Their faces stayed blank, their mouths let not even one cry of pain, surprise, or fear through their lips. Waste high, chest high, then the shoulders went under. Minute by minute passed with the only movement being the soldiers sinking into the mud and the gradual swiveling of their heads to keep direct eye contact with Ellie through an unblinking, uncaring gaze. As if the whole scene was naught but a boring story from a bard to pass the time with; something that they could do without and would be forgotten within minutes of leaving the campfire.

Until finally, the last bit of hair on their heads slipped below the mud, as inert as a toupee. Clothes rustled near her, but it was not until Galler’s rough hands shook her tiny shoulders that Ellie was able to force her gaze away from the spot where there had once been two living, breathing men.

“Come’on Poncho. We’ve gotta go. Don’t know what happened there, don’t wanna know. We just need to keep moving. Keep your eyes, and my lack of ones, on the prize. Then we bugger off away from this damned place.”

Ellie absentmindedly nodded her head, palming her cloth bag of glass as she considered what had just happened.

Why? Just why? She pondered as she guided Galler to step over a few large clumps of mud next to a few corpses, one of which had a cleaver sticking straight out of its leg.

I don’t understand.

Ellie and Galler walked past another branch in the pathway, and the sound of mud squelching became louder with every step the pair took. Bodies became far more frequent, with some still even moving. Yet not even the moving ones uttered a single word, not one plea for help or mercy. Some gradually sunk into the mud, staring at Ellie and Galler with eyes reminiscent of a dead fish. Others were stacked in neat rows, the muscles and tendons of their faces naked and exposed to the weak sunlight, with patches of skin melted, or some sporting the occasional gaping hole that would be impossible to achieve with a simple sword strike.

I don’t understand.