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Den of Vipers
Book 2, More Lyrheans, Chapter 32: Prelude to the Lyrhean -Grekel War (Part 3)

Book 2, More Lyrheans, Chapter 32: Prelude to the Lyrhean -Grekel War (Part 3)

And now back to what was happening before.

Her eyelids fluttered a bit as she woke up, her eyes quickly darting a bit and taking in the scenery as her other senses went from low passive detection to full intensity. Seeing that she had not been discovered, she stealthily snaked her way down the tree, all while scanning around for any trace of the Grekels.

It was still dark, and night had not yet given way to even the slightest hint of daybreak, and that was fine by her. Her Mother had given her a task, and she herself had given herself an objective that she was personally set on, whether it proved impossible or not.

She had heard horror stories of the dread Human only known as ‘The Ranger’, and she, too, bore that Class. However, while that Ranger was an enemy of terrible force, she would, hopefully, be better. If a mere human could reach such dangerous heights in merely a half-decade, then she, a True Lyrhean, could easily reach a higher power in half of that time.

And what would be the point of merely settling for the limits of one class? That was for lesser creatures, such as Humans. No, she had multi-classed into Rogue, and she, at least, was fairly good at being both a Ranger and that. Sure, she somewhat suffered in a true close-range brawl without any support, but if she was equipped with better kit and able to strike without first being detected she was a true blade in the dark, and a poisoned blade at that.

As she reached the ground, she slid over to a bush and sneaked through the undergrowth, easily avoiding the terribly poor traps scattered about. She did, occasionally, see the odd Grekel part left behind in a trap that had already been triggered previously, and it took all of her mental strength to avoid scoffing and shaking her head.

Throughout the night, she circled and prowled around the outskirts of the large settlement, observing the walls as carefully as she could and noting the placement of watch towers and in some cases lack thereof. In her head, she began to put all of these pieces together and quickly retreated to a tree to begin sketching a rough drawing of the large village of not-goblins.

She pulled out a pen, one of the few that had been found that had survived the End, and got to work. She silently thanked a younger, more gullible, and malleable version of herself for falling for the old D&D joke about the ‘strongest skill’, and through her mastery of Calligraphy, she was more than able to make the first stages of her map.

Yes, the pen was indeed mightier than the sword, because while a sword could only be used to fight a pen could be used to write AND fight, if you knew what you were doing with it. Having a pen on her person at all times had proved useful back when the Apocalypse first began, as she was able to use that old fountain pen to put a hole through the windpipe of the first monster she had seen.

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Regardless, it had taken her longer than she had expected to not merely observe the outer wall but also study it intensely. She winced a bit as the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon and she felt a great sense of annoyance that she was unable to finish her mission in a single night.

Still, she had made a great amount of progress. She now could study her observations and sketches to determine where would be the best place to infiltrate through, and as she went from tree top to tree top she kept filling in more gaps in her sketches and drawings, gaining more insights as she was able to occasionally see over the pitiful walls to what lay behind them.

As the light began to wash over everything, she finally made it back to the highest tree in the area and decided to rest until the next night. She closed her eyes, slowed her breathing, and faded into unconsciousness.

Meanwhile, inside the settlement in the deepest, most heavily defended portion, a certain first of his species shivered and felt his gaze be drawn towards the door. He was, in comparison to the rest of his putrid and evil kind, a mere husk of a Grekel, and his mind was still entirely human.

He could have easily given in to his new baser urges and desires, but he, like a few others, had rejected his new species’ nature and sought to endlessly fight against the will of such monstrous gods. Every death was on his hands, whether he wanted it or not, and every rape, act of torture, murder, and vandalism only brought more shame on the former Evangelical man.

He narrowed his large eyes and scowled. He felt this feeling before, and it always spelled despair for himself and for others. Though, for once, he felt like something could change for the better. His version of ‘for the better’, though, only involved the extermination of himself and his kind, though.

“Ah, Grekel King Grekel, you are awake!” a shaman said with joy in his voice as he walked in, his cane/ staff making soft pattering sounds as it impacted the soil. “We received word from our scouts. New sows have been found, and new plunder can be taken. Will you lead us to glory and victory, or will you delegate that to lesser beings such as myself and others?”

Grekel, the first of his horrid and evil kind, felt a light bulb turn on. “Are there any irregularities among them?” he asked, hoping, nay, praying to Christ that his monstrous ilk would give him what he felt that he needed.

“Yes. Some appear to be reptilian in nature, but still perfectly suitable for breeding and slavery. Are you interested?”

A sly grin formed on Grekel’s face. He hoped his hunch was correct. If it was, he could finally die and be done with this Hell on Earth.

“Yes. I will lead all of our fighters and mages and whatnot into battle.”

“All of them?!”

“Yes.” Grekel replied, steeling himself for what he wanted most of all in this world; certain death. “All of them.”