The jewel, nestled in his calloused palm, thrummed like a caged desert locust. Not a good sign. Ever since he’d plucked it from the dusty embrace of that forgotten vase, it had hummed and pulsed with an unnerving rhythm, growing more frantic with each passing day. Now, as Ba Gấu contemplated fleeing the Kingdom of Disin, the damn thing vibrated like a possessed temple bell.
He squeezed it tighter, half expecting it to sprout teeth or burst into flames. "Spit it out," he grumbled, more to himself than any deity he might (or might not) believe in. "Gods and their cryptic trinkets. A devil might lie, but at least they do it with a smile and a wink, not some half-assed tremor in a dusty rock."
He remembered the old puppy's fairytale, whispered around crackling campfires under skies thick with desert stars. A tale of a merchant who bargained with a crossroads demon, receiving a sack of gold in exchange for his shadow. The demon, countless momma dogs told their pups before bed, had spoken clear as a desert wind, laying out the terms with chilling precision. No riddles, no cryptic vibrations, just a straightforward deal, even if the price was steep. It was supposed to be a parable about the easy road or whatever.
The memory made him snort. Compared to that, the gods were a pack of feckless sand lizards, scattering riddles in the wind and expecting mortals to decipher them. Pathetic.
The jewel, as if responding to his thoughts, pulsed with renewed vigor. With a sigh, Ba Gấu knelt beside the stagnant pool, its surface reflecting the bruised twilight sky. The jewel slipped from his grasp, plopping into the murky depths with a comical plop.
He cursed, reaching in to snag it before it disappeared into the depths. His fingers brushed cool stone, but before he could grasp it, a jolt of unseen energy shot through him. The water roiled, churning into a frothing maelstrom that swallowed him whole.
"Well, that's just… rude," he managed to gasp, the words bubbling out in a distorted gurgle. He tumbled through the darkness, the water a suffocating shroud. This wasn't some divine nudge, some cryptic message. This was a god's wrath, swift and brutal, just like the desert sun that could dry out a dog carcass in minutes.
He kicked and clawed, the unseen force dragging him deeper. Despair gnawed at him, the taste of iron filling his mouth. Maybe the devils weren't so bad after all. At least they were upfront about their cruelty. Gods, with their hidden agendas and silent pronouncements, were worse than a nest of scorpions in your sleeping bag.
Then, just as abruptly as it began, the descent stopped. Ba Gấu found himself sprawled on a smooth, hard surface, the oppressive weight of the water gone. He coughed, spitting out a mouthful of brackish liquid, and blinked against the sudden brightness.
He was no longer by the desolate pool. Instead, he found himself in a cavern bathed in an eerie luminescence that emanated from glowing fungi clinging to the cavern walls. The air thrummed with an otherworldly energy, making his fur prickle and his claws itch.
And then he saw it. A colossal serpent, its scales shimmering like obsidian, coiled in the center of the cavern. Its eyes, burning embers in the gloom, fixed on him with an unblinking stare.
Ba Gấu, the dog-man who had stared down sandstorms and desert devils, felt a cold knot of fear twist in his gut. Gods, with their silent pronouncements and cryptic games, were indeed a pain in the backside, but at least they offered a modicum of excitement. Maybe, he thought with a grim chuckle, getting dragged into a god's lair by a moody rock wasn't such a bad way to go after all. At least it beat a slow, uneventful death by sand erosion.
He rose to his feet, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his dagger. In the face of the unknown, a dog-man had to face his fate, claws bared and teeth bared. And if this was how a god chose to deliver its message, well, then so be it. At least it wouldn't be a boring death.
part 2
The great black serpent sat still, posing amongst the shadows of the cavern. It was meant to intimidate mortals. It waited for Ba Gau to speak. The round dog had been whipped by the gods before, he just lost everything he owned in the world and wasn’t afraid of this one killing him, that would actually be granting a wish and the bastards would never. Ba Gau began, “Wha-” The Snake god cut him off with waves of crushing spiritual pressure. Unmoving and emanating power enough to cause a calamity in the world, the being that dragged Ba Gau to this realm outside reality, tortured his mind and body and spirit for a few seconds that were eternity to Ba Gau, with a stare. The pain was so great Ba Gau maw stretched open in a twisted silent death yelp.
Ba Gau's vision flickered on the edge of darkness as the pressure receded, leaving him gasping for air that wasn't there. His muscles screamed in protest, each fiber torn and shredded by the unseen force. Yet, despite the agony, defiance burned in his coal-black eyes.
"So," he wheezed, blood spattering onto the cavern floor, "you like parlor tricks?" His voice, rough as gravel, held a tremor, but not of fear. It was the tremor of a cornered beast, ready to lash out.
The serpent, its obsidian scales catching the faintest shimmer of starlight, remained impassive. Its immense form shifted ever so slightly, the movement echoing a silent chuckle. "You possess more resilience than your mortal shell suggests, Dog-Man," it said, its voice like the chilling whisper of wind through forgotten tombs. "But resilience alone cannot withstand the will of a god."
Ba Gau spat, a glob of crimson staining the cold ground. "Gods are stories whispered by cowards. Fear-mongering for the feeble. What do you want?"
The serpent's laughter, this time echoing in the vast emptiness, resonated through Ba Gau's very bones. "Ambition, Dog-Man. It burns within you, hotter than the fires that forged me. But ambition without direction is a flickering flame soon extinguished. I offer you purpose, power, a chance to rise above your wretched existence."
Ba Gau narrowed his eyes, suspicion replacing defiance. "What purpose? What power? And at what cost?"
The serpent coiled tighter, its form shrinking until it was the size of a large wolf. Its eyes, now closer, burned with an unholy light. "The purpose? To carve your name into the fabric of this world, to bend its very laws to your will. The power? Unfathomable, unimaginable. The cost? A mere trifle. Your loyalty, your service, your very soul."
Silence hung heavy in the cavern, broken only by the ragged rasp of Ba Gau's breath. He weighed the offer, the scales tipping precariously between desperation and an instinctual distrust. Loyalty to a god-creature reeked of enslavement, but the alternative was oblivion.
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Ba Gau chuckled, a harsh, humorless sound. "And what guarantees your promises are not just another parlor trick, serpent?"
The serpent leaned closer, its forked tongue flicking out, tasting the air. "Your own hunger, Dog-Man. Look within. Do you not yearn for more than scraps and survival? Do you not crave to leave your mark on the world, to carve your own legend?"
Ba Gau closed his eyes, the serpent's words echoing in his skull. He saw his life flash before him – the struggle, the humiliation, the loss. He felt the gnawing emptiness within, the hunger for something more. Then, he opened his eyes, burning with an icy fire.
"Very well," he rasped, his voice laced with a dangerous new edge. "Tell me, serpent, what game do you propose we play?"
The cavern floor trembled as the serpent uncoiled, its vast form filling the chamber once more. A dark grin stretched across its maw, revealing needle-like teeth. "A game of power, Dog-Man. A game that will rewrite the very destiny of this world. And you, my pawn, will be its star player."
As the serpent's laughter filled the cavern, Ba Gau, the butcher turned pawn, took a step forward, his eyes glowing with a hunger far more terrifying than any god could ever imagine. The game had begun, and the stakes were nothing less than his soul and the fate of the
Ba Gau's vision flickered on the edge of darkness as the pressure receded, leaving him gasping for air that wasn't there. His muscles screamed in protest, each fiber torn and shredded by the unseen force. Yet, despite the agony, defiance burned in his coal-black eyes.
"So," he wheezed, blood spattering onto the cavern floor, "you like parlor tricks?" His voice, rough as gravel, held a tremor, but not of fear. It was the tremor of a cornered beast, ready to lash out.
The serpent, its obsidian scales catching the faintest shimmer of starlight, remained impassive. Its immense form shifted ever so slightly, the movement echoing a silent chuckle. "You possess more resilience than your mortal shell suggests, Dog-Man," it said, its voice like the chilling whisper of wind through forgotten tombs. "But resilience alone cannot withstand the will of a god."
Ba Gau spat, a glob of crimson staining the cold ground. "Gods are stories whispered by cowards. Fear-mongering for the feeble. What do you want?"
The serpent's laughter, this time echoing in the vast emptiness, resonated through Ba Gau's very bones. "Ambition, Dog-Man. It burns within you, hotter than the fires that forged me. But ambition without direction is a flickering flame soon extinguished. I offer you purpose, power, a chance to rise above your wretched existence."
Ba Gau narrowed his eyes, suspicion replacing defiance. "What purpose? What power? And at what cost?"
The serpent coiled tighter, its form shrinking until it was the size of a large wolf. Its eyes, now closer, burned with an unholy light. "The purpose? To carve your name into the fabric of this world, to bend its very laws to your will. The power? Unfathomable, unimaginable. The cost? A mere trifle. Your loyalty, your service, your very soul."
Silence hung heavy in the cavern, broken only by the ragged rasp of Ba Gau's breath. He weighed the offer, the scales tipping precariously between desperation and an instinctual distrust. Loyalty to a god-creature reeked of enslavement, but the alternative was oblivion.
Ba Gau chuckled, a harsh, humorless sound. "And what guarantees your promises are not just another parlor trick, serpent?"
The serpent leaned closer, its forked tongue flicking out, tasting the air. "Your own hunger, Dog-Man. Look within. Do you not yearn for more than scraps and survival? Do you not crave to leave your mark on the world, to carve your own legend?"
Ba Gau closed his eyes, the serpent's words echoing in his skull. He saw his life flash before him – the struggle, the humiliation, the loss. He felt the gnawing emptiness within, the hunger for something more. Then, he opened his eyes, burning with an icy fire.
"Very well," he rasped, his voice laced with a dangerous new edge. "Tell me, serpent, what game do you propose we play?"
The cavern floor trembled as the serpent uncoiled, its vast form filling the chamber once more. A dark grin stretched across its maw, revealing needle-like teeth. "A game of power, Dog-Man. A game that will rewrite the very destiny of this world. And you, my pawn, will be its star player."
As the serpent's laughter filled the cavern, Ba Gau, the butcher turned pawn, took a step forward, his eyes glowing with a hunger far more terrifying than any god could ever imagine. The game had begun, and the stakes were nothing less than his soul and the fate of the world itself.
Ba Gau stood trembling, the weight of the god's words crushing him like the serpent's coils. Destroy its own worshippers? The Saurog, with their intricate clay rituals, their reverence for the earth, their very history whispered in the lines of their pottery – were they not pawns in a larger game?
The serpent, sensing his doubt, slithered closer, its forked tongue flicking out in a chilling caress. "They abandoned me, Dog-Man. They traded my power for trinkets and baubles, their devotion as brittle as the clay they mold. They forgot the true purpose, the ancient compact forged in blood and fire."
It spoke of a time before time, of a pact made with the Saurog ancestors, offering them prosperity and power in exchange for their worship and sacrifices. But the Saurog, it claimed, had grown complacent, their rituals mere echoes of their former devotion, their offerings meager and meaningless.
"They dabble in clay," the serpent hissed, its voice dripping with venom, "fashioning trinkets and idols that hold no true power. They have strayed from the path, forgotten the potency that resides in the earth, the magic that thrums beneath their very feet."
Ba Gau's gaze drifted towards the cavern entrance, a sliver of moonlight painting the scene in stark silver and black. He yearned for freedom, for escape from this macabre game. Yet, the serpent's words resonated with a primal truth, a hunger for power that gnawed at him like a starving wolf.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice husky with the remnants of fear and a dawning resolve.
The serpent chuckled, a sound like wind whistling through shattered bones. "Bring them back to the fold, Dog-Man. Or, if they refuse, remind them of the consequences of betrayal."
It unveiled its plan, a tapestry woven with blood and bone, whispered promises of power, and the chilling prophecy of a time traveler, a stranger arriving from beyond, cloaked in the scent of forbidden perfume – a harbinger of change and destruction. The Saurog, the serpent claimed, held the key to stopping this future, their forgotten magic the potential weapon to sever the time traveler's connection to this world.
Ba Gau listened, his mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions. He saw the Saurog not just as pawns, but as individuals, each with their own story etched on their scaled skin. He saw the potential for bloodshed, the rivers running red with the blood of innocents.
But he also felt the hunger deep within himself, the desperate yearning for something more, a flicker of the god's power igniting within him. The serpent's promise, however twisted, offered a chance to carve his own legend, to etch his name upon the world in blood and fire.
With a deep breath, Ba Gau made his choice. He wouldn't be a pawn, not entirely. He would play the serpent's game, yes, but he would bend the rules to his own will. He would seek his own power, carve his own destiny, even if it meant wading through the blood of the Saurog and defying a prophecy whispered on the wind.
He met the serpent's gaze, his eyes now burning with a cold, predatory fire. "Tell me about their rituals, their magic," he rasped, his voice a low growl. "Teach me how to bend their clay to my will, and I will bring them back to the fold. Or, if they refuse, I will paint the plains of Shemsia red with their betrayal."
The serpent smiled, a chilling crescent moon in the darkness. The game had begun, and the stakes were far higher than anyone could imagine. The air crackled with anticipation, heavy with the scent of blood, clay, and the forbidden perfume of a future yet to be written. And Ba Gau, the butcher, the pawn, the harbinger of destruction, stepped into the shadows, ready to carve his own legend, even if it meant leaving a trail of broken clay and shattered lives in his wake.