Hell—that was all anyone saw as the swarm crashed down on them.
Knights and adventurers alike braced themselves, swords and shields raised, spells glowing at their fingertips. Then, with bone-rattling force, the creatures hit. Men were plucked straight off the ground like dolls and carried shrieking into the sky, while the lucky ones managed to slash a few down. Others were locked in desperate combat, blades flashing against slime-coated flesh.
Finn dropped flat just in time as one screeched past overhead—so close he swore he felt the wind of its wings brush his hair. If he'd stood an inch taller, he'd be screaming his lungs out on the way to bird-hell right now.
The creatures were nightmare parodies of people—humanlike shapes with arms and legs replaced by twisted bird wings and talons. Their mouths were jagged beaks, their faces eyeless hollows. And their skin still oozed that same revolting slime, dripping as they shrieked.
