I exited the hole that I had intended to be my new grave, slinking and crawling with all the essence of stealth. The robes I took from the ancient corpse were remarkably durable, I figured they would get at least a few torn holes crawling through the jagged rock but not a single rip or tear was heard. I slithered through the crevice like it was not an obstacle at all, and thanks to my speedy silence I exited onto the floor on the other side without a noise.
The room was now fully lit by torches, but I still managed to cling to dancing shadows. Similar to the ruined cubby, the floor and walls were actually made from cut and carved ancient ruins instead of a cave. The tunnel I had initially entered from was actually a hallway, and even stone pillars still held fast against the weight of the earth above. Braziers were lit in the center of the room, where a circular pit was still seen. At the back of the room there seemed to be what might once have been indentations in the walls meant to house a grand mausaleum’s worth of coffins and caskets; now it housed crude and vile shredded cloths, blood, and gore that marked it as these fiend’s home and beds.
The reptilian fiends gathered close to the circular pit. They didn’t bother having anyone guard or watch the hallways, instead they eagerly stared forward or hungrily towards those in the pit. The creatures were of almost any shade of dark color and each wore simple rags, crude bone adornments, and weapons of varying quality. At the front of them, standing in front of the fiend’s bedding, was the largest of their pack. A huge dark-blue scaled beast adorned snout to claw with bones, blood, and entrails. A deep chant reverberated out of the beast’s throat as it almost sat as if in prayer.
I slinked further into the shadows, circling to the other side of the room with the cloak disguising my travel as my movements were muffled and my form was darkened. As I reached the other side I could peek out from behind a pillar and see the unfortunate captives. It seemed none of the unfortunates in the pit had been greatly disturbed, most cowered in the center to stay away from grasping claws and eager teeth. Yet in front of the praying fiend was my savior. The woman lay on the ground, whatever armor she had before was viciously torn away, only her normal clothes remained. New and fresh cuts, bruises, and blood was obvious even from the other side of the room where I silently stalked. The sight of her harm enraged me.
The largest fiend started to stand, and another vile creature of similar color hurried to deliver a crude bone dagger into its hands. I realized too late the purpose of this. In the instant the dagger was held in its hands, the crude blade fell and struck into the thigh of the defenseless woman. She woke with a scream, but watching creatures rushed forward to hold her down as she struggled. The blade was removed and blood dripped from it and gushed from the wound. The monster held its arms high once again as if to attack once more, but I would not allow it.
For the first time I forced words into my mind. Time seemed to slow as knowledge and power beckoned to be used. The words were angry and called out for brutal slaughter or total annihilation. The eagerness of the magic made me hesitate. A single word could easily debilitate me and I got the sense that the wrong word would harm who I wanted to protect just as much as who I wished to slay. I wracked my mind for what would be the correct phrase to use, but none seemed to be without bloodthirst. Yet as I searched the ether for a magic, I felt warmth in the robes I had pilfered. A new and fully real sensation.
I focused on the warmth and realized it emanated from the book I still kept in a hidden pocket. I didn’t need to take it out or open it to visualize what was inside. The book beckoned and persuaded me, it knew what I wanted and almost seemed to organize the words into a function that it could paint before me. The words that called to me, that could both stop this ritual and harm my enemies, were found. I called the words of power, and focused my intent, “Contagion, the flame of hir’eant.”
I reached out my hand and I felt power force its way towards my enemies. It tried to veer off to the long-eared captives but I chained it to my will and focused its fury. The biggest monster was my first target, and it felt my wrath immediately. Time returned to normal, and the creature who one-too-many times harmed my savior doubled over into a fit. The other fiends besides it and in full view seemed confused, still eagerly awaiting a strike that would never come. The creature fell fully to the ground and writhed in pain on the tile. Fire began to spew out of its mouth, the insides of the creature burned with green flame.
The other creatures were more than surprised, even I wasn’t fully aware of the intent the magic had. I only had a premonition of what the magic intended, but the creature suffered and its ritual was halted. As I watched, one of the nearby fiends reached towards its leader and the large monster grabbed them by the arm and clawed at its body. Where blood was drawn flickers of green flame started to sputter to life. The newly infected creature clawed at its leader in a terrified response to remove its grip, at the same time trying to bat away the growing fire infecting its own flesh. The fire spread into its body as well, and soon chaos erupted.
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The fiends clawed and scrambled to avoid each other, scurrying into corners and onto rocks or rubble. The infected were possessed by engulfing fire, their panic drove them to madness and they lurched at anything nearby that moved. A fight quickly began, and almost as soon as it started the scene was over. The creatures who fought each other tore each other to pieces until they too were infected. Once infected the fiends turned on each other quickly and spread the fiery disease to every other in the room. Eventually they all burnt from the inside, but I noticed the fire didn’t last long. Rather quickly the fire went out on its own, leaving the subject breathing but engulfed in pain. They were all still alive.
There was no time to waste, I may not have been able to kill them but I knew at least one who had no reservations. I rushed towards the injured woman, who had curled into a ball and hidden under the now-unconscious form of the monstrous leader. It was difficult, but I pushed the body off my savior and revealed myself. She seemed surprised, looking at me with panic in her eyes and confusion. She spoke quickly in her native language, likely forgetting my inability to understand. I wasted no time, even as I was moving the body of their leader the fiends were still alive and slowly beginning to stir.
I took the bone dagger from the ground and thrust it into the woman’s hands. Without words, as they were certainly useless, I pointed at the nearby monster that was slowly attempting to bring itself up again. The woman seemed to understand, but was still watching me with cautious eyes. As she righted herself I rushed to nearby discarded weapons and threw them into the pit. The frightened long-eared captives cowered as they saw me approach. Yet fast words from behind me, from the woman, made them understand. Those that could stand, crawl, and climb, escaped the pit and wielded their capter’s weapons against them. In a fury of savage revenge, the captives slew those that had stolen them away. A few of the fiends attempted to stand and rebel, but the quantity of retaliation was too much for any one of the bulky creatures to fight against.
In moments the entire room lay silent, and half of its occupants lay dead. The victims helped each other out of the pit and the woman who saved me approached. She began speaking quickly, too fast for me to properly hear any of the words. She watched me cautiously, awaiting a response but I had none to give. “I still don’t understand you.” I said.
She almost jumped back with surprise, I could even see a few other of the long-ears jump in apparent surprise, “Cin ‘a Helnuan?” she asked.
That word again, “You said Helnuan to me before, what does it mean?”
“Da’rth, gar’min govannen?..”
“I still don’t understand…” I almost missed her broken language from before, and wondered why she had given up using it.
“You… Help, not you?” She said in words I finally understood.
“Yes, like you asked me to.”
She thought for a moment, and realization began to spill across her face, “You… dead? You people of Helnuan?”
“I suppose I am dead, I don’t know. I also don't know what Helnuan is.” I said, almost becoming frustrated.
Then the woman abandoned our conversation, turning around to look around frantically for something. As I watched I saw the others of her kind staring at me with almost a sense of awe, at least the ones who weren’t actively helping the others escape the pit. Eventually the woman found what she apparently was looking for, a chipped and scratched piece of pauldron discarded on the ground. She used her shirt to polish and clean it before taking it over to me. Before I could ask what she was doing she held the pauldron up to my face.
As I looked into the scratched shine of the metal armor, I didn’t see what I had come to expect; there was no skeletal figure looking back at me. Instead, under the hood of the robe there was simply a dark shadowy silhouette of a nondescript face. Like a normal person hiding their face in a dim room with the shadows of their hood. There was no sign of skeletal features at all. I began to pull back the hood, and as its cover was taken away my skull was fully visible again in an instant. The woman and I were surprised, she grabbed at the hood to pull it back down but I beat her to it to force the hood forward again. None of the long-ears seemed to notice, most of them working or standing behind me where they still only saw the back of the hood.
The robes seemed to have some strange effect, one that I realized quickly was quite desirable. The woman, now realizing who I was, brightened and smiled slightly. Yet just before she could say anything else she clutched at her leg in pain. Collapsing to the ground, whatever willpower or fear had been driving her until now faded and all that was left was her gaping wound. As I reached down to her, others of her kind rushed to check on her. As I looked at her still-bleeding wound, I could see black veins coursing out of the injury like slowly slithering snakes. I could almost smell the blood gushing out of the wound, but for whatever reason my body was repulsed instead of the usual frenzy. The blood was thick and black, oozing out slowly. I could sense some kind of foul magic coming from the injury, and whatever it was my body rejected it entirely despite the hunger I felt panging in the back of my mind once more.
As the last of the captives were taken out of the pit, awoken, or bundled onto their fellows I realized my debt was yet to be repaid. I began carrying the injured and bleeding woman, hoping her fellows would let me follow them and that we would be led to a place where she could be helped. I felt my magic ebbing away, the fever that possessed my mind when rage, bloodlust, and magic took hold was dissipating. Yet I needed to do at least one last thing before anything else, I needed to save this woman regardless of what danger I might be put in by doing so.