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 saw the hunger in his own eyes, 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.
A cold resolve settled in Ba Gau's gut as he accepted the serpent's twisted task. The god's words, laced with venom and promises, ignited a dark flame within him – ambition for power, a hunger to carve his own name upon the world. Yet, a sliver of suspicion lingered.
"Why me?" he rasped, his voice echoing in the cavern's depths. "Why have you chosen a butcher to be your instrument?"
The serpent's obsidian eyes glinted in the faint starlight. "You possessed the necessary resilience," it hissed, its voice like wind whistling through a skull. "You endured the crushing weight of my will longer than any before. It is a testament to your strength, Dog-Man, a strength I can mold into something far greater."
Ba Gau knew there was more to it. That glint in the serpent's eyes spoke of hidden truths, unspoken motives. But for now, his survival hinged on playing along.
"And what of a strategist?" he inquired, his tone carefully neutral. "This game you propose demands cunning, not just brute force."
The serpent coiled tighter, its immense form dwarfing him. "Seek out Xylo," it rumbled. "A young Saurog, ostracized for his unorthodox interpretations of their clay rituals. He possesses a mind capable of weaving intricate plans, and a hunger for knowledge that mirrors your own."
Intriguing. A pawn within the enemy ranks, ripe for manipulation. Ba Gau stored the name away, a seed waiting to be sown.
Then, the serpent unveiled its first weapon. A surge of power crackled through Ba Gau, leaving him gasping. He felt it course through his veins, a potent venom empowering his muscles and sharpening his senses.
"This," the serpent hissed, its voice filled with malevolent pleasure, "is the Bite of the Serpent. It grants you enhanced strength and speed, but its true power lies in its hidden sting."
It explained the activation sequence, a cryptic dance of movements triggered by an enemy's attack. after getting hit by an attack, blink 3 times, take 1 step back, duck and dash forward. This will initiate an attack of 20 lightning snakebites on the attacker. A predatory grin twisted Ba Gau's lips. A hidden blade, waiting to unleash the serpent's fury with each blow he received.
"Go now, Dog-Man," the serpent boomed, its voice echoing through the cavern. "Carve your path, paint the plains red if you must. Remember, your loyalty is not to the Saurog, but to the power I offer. Be the storm that shatters their world, and from the ashes, you will rise, reborn as something far more. Remember, Dog-Man, you are not the first. But you have the potential to be the last."
Ba Gau emerged from the cavern, the weight of the task heavy on his shoulders. He was no longer just Ba Gau, the butcher. He was a pawn, yes, but one wielding the venom of a god. And in the game of shadows that loomed before him, he would play his part, his own ambitions simmering beneath the surface, waiting for their turn to erupt.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
His path was clear: manipulate, conquer, bend the Saurog to his will. But the serpent's parting words echoed in his mind. He wasn't the first. A flicker of unease sparked within him. Who were the others? What became of them? Perhaps Xylo, the ostracized strategist, held the key to unlocking that secret, another pawn in the serpent's millennia-old game.
With a steely glint in his eyes, Ba Gau set out, the serpent's power coursing through him, ready to carve his name in blood and clay, unaware of the tangled web of pawns and forgotten players he was about to enter. The true game had just begun.
part 4
Beneath the sun's unrelenting gaze, the dunes stretched like an endless tapestry of ochre, mirroring the labyrinthine pathways branching within Ba Gau's soul. The serpent's whispers, promises of power and etched legacy, echoed in his mind, yet the hollowness within remained, a gaping wound festering with unanswered questions.
He hadn't sought power, not truly. He craved meaning, a balm to soothe the jagged scars etched by war and betrayal. His past, a tapestry woven with broken threads, haunted him. His wife, a fleeting dream of normalcy, had offered a mirage of family, but their fear mirrored his own emptiness. His mother-in-law's poison, a chilling echo of the venomous deal he'd struck.
His past gnawed – the ex-wife, their unfulfilled dream of a child, a legacy forever out of reach. Was it a curse or a blessing? The answer, like the sands, shifted with each gust of doubt.
Then, Linh's image shimmered in the heat haze. The eager pup, her eyes reflecting the innocence he'd lost. Could she be his path to redemption? To guide her, shield her from the darkness he knew, perhaps redeem himself in the process – a flicker of hope, a purpose beyond the serpent's twisted game.
Lan Anh, beautiful and practical, offered a different path. A crown, a kingdom, a life cloaked in the illusion of control. But something rebelled within him. Was it the stifling weight of responsibility, the fear of a life defined by expectations? Or perhaps the gnawing emptiness that power couldn't fill?
He didn't know what he craved. Power? Redemption? Peace? All mirages shimmering in the heat, offering solace he wasn't sure he deserved. He was adrift, a solitary vulture circling a carcass, picking at the remnants of his former life. Was this all he was destined to be?
No. He wouldn't be defined by the serpent, his past, or his doubts. He would carve his own path, a path where power served a purpose – perhaps protecting Linh, perhaps carving out a haven in this desolate landscape. Redemption wouldn't come easy, not from the serpent's twisted game, but through the choices he made, the blood and sweat he spilled on his own terms.
Ba Gau, the butcher, the pawn, the harbinger – these titles felt like ill-fitting masks. He was Ba Gau, the seeker, and the dunes, his crucible. The game was far from over, but for the first time, he wasn't just a pawn. He was a player, and the stakes were his soul, his redemption, and perhaps, a sliver of meaning carved from the vast emptiness within.
He raised his head, squinting into the unforgiving sun. The dunes stretched before him, an endless expanse of possibilities. He wouldn't seek answers from gods or oracles. He would find them within himself, in the journey, in the choices he made, one agonizing step at a time. The path was unclear, but the serpent's whispers had lost their allure. He would write his own story, one etched not in blood and power, but in the pursuit of meaning, redemption, and perhaps, a chance to leave a legacy of his own choosing, not the serpent's.
part 5
Ba Gau trudged through the unforgiving desert, the sun carving harsh lines on his face. His mind churned with the echoes of his desert epiphany, his resolve solidifying with each burning footstep. Checking on Linh and Lan Anh felt more than a task; it was a step towards carving his own path, a search for meaning beyond the serpent's whispers.
He crested a dune, the shimmering heat mirage revealing a patrol of three Lau Vang soldiers approaching. Their crimson armor gleamed under the relentless sun, the symbols of the tiger and dragon emblazoned upon their chests. A flicker of recognition passed through Ba Gau – young recruits, green behind the ears but bearing the proud legacy of his former unit.
He halted, raising a hand in the ancient Cau Binh salute, practiced muscle memory from a lifetime ago. The patrol mirrored his gesture, surprise flitting across their youthful faces.
"Greetings, Ba Gau," the leader spoke, his voice still raw with new authority. "What brings you to this desolate corner of Hadupha?"
Ba Gau's gaze hardened. He couldn't reveal his true purpose, not to these pups. Inspiration struck. "I received rumors of an antiquities thief desecrating the Megaliths," he lied, weaving a believable narrative. "The sacred grounds hold significance beyond mere trinkets. I felt compelled to investigate."
A flicker of concern shadowed the leader's youthful face. "The Megaliths hold a potent curse, Ba Gau. Even trained Lau Vang avoid them. Are you certain?"
Ba Gau smirked, a hint of his old predatory self flickering to life. "I may not wear your crimson anymore, young soldier, but the desert wind still whispers secrets in my ear. Trust me, I know these lands better than you can imagine."
His words held a subtle edge, a reminder of his past experience, and the recruits exchanged hesitant glances. Ultimately, respect for a veteran outweighed their apprehension.
"As you wish, Ba Gau," the leader conceded. "We were indeed hunting a thief, a cunning one who seems to vanish into the very stones. Perhaps your desert wisdom can aid us."
Ba Gau accepted, a thrill coursing through him. This wasn't just about Linh and Lan Anh anymore. It was a chance to prove himself, a test of his newfound purpose. He would aid these greenhorns, protect the sacred grounds, and perhaps, in the process, discover secrets the very stones held, secrets that might nudge him closer to carving his own path out of the desert sands.
He joined the patrol, his eyes scanning the desolate landscape. The Megaliths loomed on the horizon, ominous sentinels guarding secrets both ancient and deadly. The hunt was on, and Ba Gau, the former butcher, the seeker, had found a new purpose, a chance to redeem himself not just in the eyes of others, but in his own. The desert wind whispered promises, and he was ready to listen.
"Hold, young soldiers," Ba Gau interrupted their bickering, his voice gravelly but firm. "Before we proceed further, I must unleash a skill honed in my old life, one that requires quiet and focus."
He explained the essence of Wolf's Scent, emphasizing the heightened senses but minimizing any graphic details. Khodr, ever curious, leaned in closer, while Lyra's gaze sharpened, taking in every word. Xi'an remained silent, their expression unreadable.
With a deep breath, Ba Gau closed his eyes, his concentration deepening. The world faded to whispers and scents, his internal energy thrumming like a desert drum. The recruits held their breath, the only sound the rustle of windblown sand. Ba Gau’s nose opened wide to allow the scent of the world to impart information
His eyes snapped open, glowing with an inner fire. "I sense movement to the southeast," he stated, pointing across the dunes. "Two individuals, one larger, likely the thief, the other smaller, perhaps an accomplice."
Lyra's tail flicked excitedly. "Can you tell us more?"
Ba Gau frowned, sniffing the air again. "A faint trace of iron… shackles perhaps. The smaller figure may be bound or injured."
Khodr shivered, his scar twitching nervously. "Iron in these ruins? Could be cursed shackles, Ba Gau. This whole place reeks of bad magic."
Xi'an finally spoke, their voice a low murmur. "Cursed shackles… a thief with an accomplice bound by cursed artifacts in a place reeking of bad magic… this doesn't smell right."
Lyra nodded grimly. "We should proceed with caution, then. Ba Gau, lead the way, but be wary."
Heeding their warnings, Ba Gau approached the southeast cautiously, senses on high alert. The desert wind carried not just sand, but a prickling chill, a palpable unease that gnawed at the fringes of his perception.