Book 3: Chapter 7: The Guide |
Often I had wondered how my friend had such a firm grasp of strategy and tactics, and ostensibly without any formal training at that. It was games from his childhood, of all things, that had schooled him thus, or so he said. But what sort of games were they from his land, that could teach the principles of logistics, battle lines, the correct order of battle, the importance of morale, and so on and so forth?
At times, he would speak with profound depth, though in his delivery I could tell that perhaps the words were not his. Yet, in all of my own studies, I have yet to find a single work that could have been his source of wisdom.
- From the diary of Damien de Savant.
A lifetime of grime and dirt covered the troglodyte, who I could see at such a close remove, was female. Dirty crude skins covered her important parts and small bones jingled in her matted hair, giving her a primitive, and now, dejected aspect. So ugly was she, that were it not for the fact that I had already identified this dweller of the dark as human, I would have seriously considered trying to use my Monster Taming skill on it.
One saving grace to all of this was that the creature had stopped struggling.
“Take me to the surface,” I commanded flatly in their simple tongue, infusing my voice with as much menace as I could muster.
Her Confusion struggled with her terror for a second. However, it was her curiosity that won out. “Surface?” she questioned, eyes growing wide with the unfamiliar word. Oddly innocent, like a child speaking its parent’s name for the first time.
“Yes,” I responded, drawing out the single syllable before pointing upwards.
“The place of the Bright Bright?” she exclaimed, eyes growing even wider in incredulity. Now that she knew that I wanted something from her, she realized that her life was in no danger.. With her fear lessening, she was slowly clawing back a semblance of control and confidence.
“But that,” she gulped as if for dramatic effect before continuing, “That is the place of the fire that always burns, and the winds that cut like blades. No, no, no, only demons walk on this surface, ever since the bad times. So it said,” she blurted, shaking her head.
Annoyed. Irritated. How these emotions could grow. Why was it that they had to talk in riddles? Was it in a pathetic attempt to stir interest in their little lives?
Before I knew it, I had wrapped my hands around her throat and was squeezing hard. I noticed that my shield had disappeared to wherever it had come from. I remembered summoning it before my encounter with the Troglodytes, but when had I dismissed it? Damn, this world and its total blasted disregard for the natural laws of the universe.
Zala was choking and spluttering as she feebly struggled. I lessened my grip, letting her take a strangled breath. It would not serve my cause for me to kill my only source of information for this place. Going forward, perhaps I could curb my slightly homicidal tendencies, if I spoke out the creature’s name.
“Zala” I demanded, the command echoing down into the deep beyond.
Zala stilled her pointless spluttering. Trembling, she continued on for a while, muttering unintelligible sounds that grated on my ears. I realized that my Identify spell had run out and cast the spell anew, allowing me to catch the tail end of her explanation, “No one goes to the surface, the place of the deadly Bright. If you go there, metal man, even you will enter the Lonely Dream.”
This drew a snort from me. I deigned to grace her with an explanation.
“From the surface, I have come, and to the surface, I will return. Show me the way, Lonely Dream or not,” I said firmly. Hopefully, exasperation had not infected my attempt at being menacing.
Was the fool simply prevaricating, buying time while the rest of her people marshaled more of their forces against me? The voices within agreed that it was so, but more to the point, I could feel them urging me to leave this place. I decided that this little interview had gone on long enough. It was time to expedite things.
“Zala, take me to the surface, or I will skin and gut you. Slowly.”
*
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Ten steps became a hundred, and a hundred became a thousand. My guide had been most talkative until we had walked a few thousand more. Her throat parched, Zala begged me for water and rest. Even the threat of death could be overcome by the body’s demands. Graciously, I allowed her to drink from one of my recently acquired skins, noting that, at the very least, the water was not poisoned. Not that I would have cared, with my ridiculously high Constitution attribute.
Zala had spoken of many things. She shifted from entreating me to turn back, to speaking about her family, no doubt in an attempt to win some sympathy, to the occasional useful tidbit about the flora and fauna. To all of this, I simply answered with noncommittal grunts and the simple terse command, “Keep moving.”
Deciding that a break was in order, I took the time to chew on some of my own rations. The Scout ate some of her own before curling into a fetal ball, whimpering for a few seconds before sleep took her. Seeing her like this made me start to think of her as a person, and not just a potential source of information and experience. Like this, I built the foundation of the walls that would allow me to curb my darker impulses. At least, until we reached the surface.
I did not rest in the traditional sense. Clearing my mind, or making my best attempt at it, I settled back against the wall into a dazed state of semi-watchfulness. It was not true sleep, but thanks to this, my Stamina and Mana were recovering and ticking steadily upward, albeit at a much-reduced rate. After an indeterminable amount of time, I was granted a reward.
You have learned Rest (lvl.4)
This disrupted my almost trance-like state, and not a moment too soon, as I heard the slithering sound of smooth scales wandering upon stone. Taking my sword in hand, I kicked Zala, causing her to squawk and jump up with fright. Stealth was never an option here, not with the glow of my Holy Aura.
Zala, in the interest of self-preservation, immediately scuttled behind me. A forked tongue entered my halo of light, followed lazily by a scaly diamond-shaped head that would not have been out of place on a large dinosaur. The head was soon followed by a pale sinuous body, about two doors wide, and so long that it seemed to stretch endlessly into the passage beyond. This new creature had sharp bony ridges along its snout and its eyes were blind unseeing orbs of milky-grey. The rest of its body was dull white, the color of bone left under the summer sun. I heard a muttered mention of Zlesh, the word sounding vaguely familiar to my ears.
I needed to know the scope of the threat. There was more to it than this. It was a thirst that went beyond just simple curiosity. Gripping my weapon tightly, I cast an Identify on the monster before me.
Zlesh Viper - [Reptile lvl.22] Health: 528/528 Stamina: 47/51 Mana: 5/5
It had a full ten levels on me, and truly represented a real threat. Unlike the joke that was Iasis’ trial, this beast was a real and present danger. Slowly, I backed away, accidentally bumping into Zala. I had not come this far to die here.
I would cast Drain on the creature, weakening it, and hope that it slowed enough that I would have a fighting chance. There was a reason that humanity stood at the top of the food chain, after all.
But Something made me stop. Perhaps it was the way that the creature did not immediately attack, or it could have simply been primal instinct, but something of this world told me that for some mysterious reason, the animal in front of me was not a threat to me. For now, at least.
I stilled myself, as the creature came within striking distance, its tongue constantly tasting the air. Holding my breath, I gripped my weapon, my nerves strung taut, as an obnoxious notification played across my vision.
You have gained 1 Luck.
Sinuously, the ridged head passed me, followed by its smooth undulating body. It was a gigantic serpent. At around ten heartbeats later, I saw a large bulge in its midsection that caused me to breathe a mental sigh of relief. It seemed that the Zlesh had fed recently, and unlike man, or for that matter felines, it would not engage in killing for sport.
And then a small part of me felt somewhat belittled that it did not view me as a threat.
Once I could no longer hear its slithering movements, I breathed out a true sigh of relief and felt the stress of the moment leave me. Behind me, Zala was a trembling wreck, but I soon corrected that situation by cuffing her across the head and kicking her back into gear. Whimpering, she continued walking.
The encounter with the Zlesh was a lesson. The powerful did not need to fear the weak.