The Horrors

Crouched behind a hedge, Argen could feel the wrongness of the creatures. They were twenty, perhaps thirty, yards distant but they had a sickening corruption about them, like oily smoke which clung to your sanity. There were three of the creatures, slithering like the snakes that their lower body resembled, but holding themselves upright like mockeries of men. Bony plates covered bladed arms, protecting heads and torsos which were only vaguely human. Rift horrors, Argen knew, that much was certain from the seeping madness. Which kind, he did not know. He waited for them to pass, then ran to report.