--- Son of Swift Spear POV
I, Son of Swift Spear, a proud member of the Long Grass Pride, raise my two-handed spear. I tighten my clawed grip upon the shaft and warmblood trickles down my forearm fur from beneath a hastily applied bandage. I ignore the loss of lifeblood, distracted by … something.
“A blink of light?” I can’t hold back the surprise in my voice.
A weight rests upon my shoulder and I flash a look. Helmer’s gauntlet. Dried Orc ichor splashes across the plate steel.
“The stairs lad. We need to get to them, no need for diversions.” The heavy jowls of the Dog Kin jostle with the shaking of his head. I notice the strength of his conviction and understand our desperation.
Bitter memories, Pag lost to a new trap on the way in, the only one I failed to find, although uncertain how ... we missed the Lizard Kin’s raw ferocity in our battles. Inevitable defeat followed and while we fought bravely never showing our backs to the Orc beasts, Erard, Helmer’s paired warrior fell in a brave last stand.
I smell our last companion join us and notice Helmer’s sensitive wet nose wrinkle. The Badger Kin is awash with sweat and stink, fur ruffled, most un-Badger Kin like as she hauls in several labouring breaths.
A blink of light again and our three sets of eyes peer into the darkness.
I growl, unable to control my disgust. “Snake Kin.”
Helmer turns his head away. “Leave it. Kin in name only, they enter the Dungeon with their own and look down upon others.”
Her squeaking voice protests. “We are all Kin, and none deserve to be left behind.”
We can’t separate and as the leader, following in the footsteps of my father I must decide for us all. I rest a paw upon Helmer’s shoulder.
“We aren’t savages to abandon one of our Kin, even distasteful Kin.”
“Aye lad and we have a ways to go …”
His face is hidden behind a Great Helm; I must rely upon his words. Acceptance of his paired warrior loss is remarkable and I need to scratch the itch.
“You don’t grieve your loss?”
The Badger Kin steps between us and yet before she speaks, Helmer answers, “We live for battle and glorious death, he slew many while screaming for us to escape. His bravery will be howled around many campfires and four will see us out even if the fourth is a … less than savoury choice as a companion.”
I think I catch a glint of a smile in his eyes while nodding in acknowledgement. I continue my idiotic straight talk though, well, because I can.
“Why do running Badger Kin stink so, Blessalla?”
Helmer chuckles, while our Badger Kin companion swells up, white and black fur covered cheeks huffing like a forge’s bellows.
“We are delicate! And your directness is rude and unbecoming for the son of such a great hunter!” She stomps off in the direction of the trapped Snake Kin. Helmer and I share a smirking glance and hurry after her, concerned she may require rescue.
--- Aphrodite POV
Several weeks of games play out, the number of groups declining as few survive or breach the impasse of the Boulder Bowl and I feel the mana now at the disposal of Azizos. In fact, he allows my claiming of prey to build my essence count. My duty remains clandestine, only to strike when all witnesses can be dispatched, lately meaning only when the Beast Kin invaders are in retreat. During this downtime, I experiment with my Sorcery and find I am limited with my mind full of Spells and Faith Magic. Therefore, I must “Enchant” amulets or rings, like the one Alba is held within. My attempts to contact Alba fail, she is beyond my reach. There is lingering pain in my heart, I have her freedom within my grasp, and a frustration surfaces, I need to battle this new form to retain the memory of my obligation to her.
The Lamia form is … difficult, a complete opposite of the Lammasu, she doesn’t play nice with others and is completely self-centred. Somehow, I can consider the absurd notion I am Lamia and yet I am more, the previous forms still influence me. My griffon wishes me to devour the entirety of any kill, my Harpy understands about time and place and my Lammasu understands neither of them while being most recent and ably resists the void of caring within the Lamia. A summary in some respects of my Monster Dominate, which now exceeds my Sentient Dominate and my control over my present form remains solely due to my previous evolution, not my humanity. I am hanging onto the edge of a sanity precipice, my many forms crushing my spirit each seemingly trying to supervise the development of my true personality.
Further, I am irritated, my Sentient Dominate should have increased due to the good character example set by the Lammasu and yet nothing, while both Dominates languish behind Dungeon Dominate. Never have I philosophised about the three to this extent and perhaps all being more than half complete the reason, an achievement leading to a level of enlightenment or sufficient capability for self-discovery. Or perhaps more simply the race is half over and my doom approaches, to forever serve Azizos. Given this possible fate, I am actively trying to understand and resist it, since the possibility of returning to my creator is nil, due to Zeus’ betrayal.
Deep within my thoughts, I almost miss a lone Snake Kin fleeing from my Master’s minions. They chase any through the stalagmites for different durations and distances, he learns to be unpredictable. His traps have expanded beyond pits to include surface spikes, especially around the Boulder Bowl to spring up from the ground and spear the feet of the unwary. More if the target bends down to crouch.
I gamble the Snake Kin chooses a well-known escape path, basically the path her group took to enter. I cast the stronger Magician Spell [Silent Image] to create an illusion of a stalagmite on her path and nearby disguise the actual stalagmite as the path utilising the Magician Spell [Minor Illusion]. Snake Kin eyesight is poor, they rely upon ‘smelling’ the surroundings with their tongue. In one big Cavern, most would smell the same I hope while her panic should momentarily dismiss the minor path discrepancy. My Master appreciates my game and encourages the pursuit by his Orcs to continue a little further than previously.
I wait.
Interestingly she twitches, snakehead, on a human upper torso with arms and hands snapping towards the proper path while her lower torso snake body slides towards the false path. Reconciliation and I watch the win. The snake torso bowls into the base of the stalagmite and her upper body flings her snakehead forward until smashing into the narrower upper height. She releases her staff, which clatters to the ground to allow her hands to grip the stalagmite trying to stay upright. Shaking her green snakehead, she slides slowly to the floor.
Gliding down to land beside her, my feast is interrupted before a single bite by distant voices. Another group is busy organising beside the Basalt Wall stairwell. An unusual occurrence, given Beast Kin recent losses and the only explanation, fresh meat, new intruders. My stomach churns, the Lamia dislikes open confrontation, I don’t conceal my true self in illusion, I am down upon the ground and not safely above. These uneasy feelings invade my consciousness and I need to resist them, maintain control, and follow my plan. Only when a Griffon … have I felt a similar loss of control and the possibility of Lamia slinging me back to this form’s base instinct repugnant and I seize control of self.
With a savage grab, I place the dazed Snake Kin under one arm deliberately facing her head away from my body, her staff in my other hand hauling both, to an untravelled section of the Cavern. After sliding effortlessly between the stalagmites, I reach the destination almost happy savouring the pending flesh and essence feast accepting as normal the now common failure to acquire additional skills.
Her tongue darts out and licks my arm. “I wills sserve youses. I begs for services inssteads of deaths.”
I almost drop her before recovering, I shake my head, a Lamia’s predatory smile gracing my lips. The look is a natural one for me now. Her lidless eyes blaze open, and her torso shakes within my embrace. Never being able to see the look, I can only appreciate the effectiveness in others.
“Serves, loyals before the bloods of mys Housses.”
Overhearing talk concerning the Snake Kin from other Beast Kin I know they aren’t well-loved, perhaps despised is an apt description as they deal in profit and having hoodwinked their own for generations, they turned their skills upon the other Kin. A Beast Kin who openly gains influence with their wealth while secretly removing opposition is the rumour. They respect strength until strong enough to usurp that strength.
While not monstrous in size, my snake torso allows me to wrap around her humanoid waist squeezing her lungs teasingly. Strong enough to hold her like a young child’s rattle.
Interesting, she doesn’t resist. Supplicant.
“What would bind you to me, to be unbreakable once you flee for your life when I release you?”
She raises her lightly scaled wrist to her fangs and draws blood, offering the dripping wrist to my mouth. “By the scent of my blood, I swear my loyalty.”
I smile, drawing upon every ounce of my Lamia malice. “What of your previous blood oath?”
“I am too lowly …”
“So, you are worthless, your strength pitiful, perhaps devouring your flesh is worth more to me.”
Her eyes flash in determination, perhaps even pride. “My House is low, and we lick the skin of those stronger and bide our time. Many of my House have been conscripted as battle fodder, to test the strength of this Quest Dungeon. Soon the strong Houses will assault this place and then …”
“And then …?” I ask.
Her snakehead shakes, refusing to answer. I snatch her wrist to me and lick her blood.
“And then …?” I ask again.
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She hisses, and her tongue darts out quickly. “They command great Sorcery and will slaughter all life within this Dungeon.”
“Why swear loyalty to me when my demise is … certain?”
The snakehead is difficult to read with no tells or very few, maybe after some time, I will discern the subtle, although her clear membranes over her eyes rapidly flicker. Does that mean anything?
“You taste of power and strength and while you are Snake Kin you are more … what I tasted can’t be explained. I fear you and yet, drawn … to you.” Her head lowers.
I release her and hand the staff back. She recoils before regaining her composure enough to timidly accept the staff, her eyes searching for an answer on my face.
“Why did you flinch?”
“I am sorry Great One I thought you would demand my staff as an offering …” A fork tongue darts out as her head lowers yet again.
“Explain.” Time to further understand what I have signed up for. Also, should I question her Great One honorific of me? No, I decide my memory is comfortable with the title.
“I am sworn to you, you may demand anything from me. My staff is enchanted to hold my spells with only one condition, to serve me or those I have blood sworn to.” She extends the Staff towards me snapping her arm straight, doing what she must, a certain unwillingness evident.
“What are your Spells?”
The staff hangs between us, she lowers the offering until grounded an arm’s length from her body.
“We master a single element, mine is fire. We form and shape until able to project single arrow shaft like blasts or explosive blasts and some can create walls of their element to sweep foes away.”
“You have no other Spells?”
Her fangs glisten briefly. An incredulous smile perhaps?
“Destroy or be destroyed Great One, why would you need any other spells?”
My mind manipulates the Sorcery Spell [Mend Flesh] and I quickly realise casting the base spell is my sole option. My glowing hand latches onto her wrist. Apparently assaulting her with unknown magic doesn’t disturb her? Why not?
Her tongue snakes out, almost leisurely, although I begin to believe there is an apprehensive pleasure in the action now as the previously hasty nervous licking is drawn out and possibly full of desire … after withdrawing her slim forked tongue, her voice thickens.
“Alasse, Daughter of House Burning Fang, Servant of the Golden Scale Empire am blessed by your touch Great One, I trust the taste of your power as you can trust the binding of my blood oath, your will is my will.”
Her snakehead lowers away from me at an angle, exposing the scintillating green scales on the back of her neck, offering her life, implying I could decapitate her, holding the pose beyond a reasonable length of time.
She resumes her posture, facial features hinting at a level of satisfaction.
“Why did you linger upon my flesh?”
Her posture crumbles under the weight of my simple question, only rallying once my caressing touch raises her chin. The odd warmth of her snakeskin was unexpected. Her emotional ups and downs are raw and hopefully real.
“Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac to Snake Kin. You command and others obey, regardless of fear, respect, envy, or obligation. I wish for such power or at least enough to ensure my House rises … Great One. I … I surrender my life if I have offended.”
“Maybe you have, although you need to remain alive for the immediate future until my purpose for you is complete.”
She bobs her snakehead I note, her eyes remaining cast down.
“I will assist you into a pit trap and there you will wait for rescue. You will ingratiate yourself and ensure they offer you assistance and ideally companionship. You will spy upon them and report, either you will find me, or I will find you. Make no mistake we will meet again.”
Hands fidgeting, she hesitates to speak until in position to offer her neck once again. It would seem Snake Kin are quick to offer their lives to the powerful; interesting.
“I … Snake Kin. Great one, we aren’t welcomed by our Kin. Neither are we apologetic, even when requiring their help and they expect this … to act otherwise would hinder the success of your plans.”
I try to evaluate the creature cowering before me. Sworn to my service, apprehensive to challenge my plans and yet brave enough to do so to increase their likelihood of success. Self-interest? Her survival perhaps, no I don’t think so given she offers me her life even now. Once you dismiss life, the sole remaining motivation for Snake Kin seems power. If I succeed, she succeeds and thereby tastes the scraps of power I bestow upon her. The promise of power is more important than a powerless subservient life and she flatters me by suggesting I have plans, her task obviously only part of one.
I raise my voice slightly. “What do you know of my plans?”
The head bob accelerates in frequency. “Nothing Great One, I am an unworthy lowly servant only certain of one thing.” I notice a shiver race down her body. “The powerful plan beyond, into the future and I swear to do my part or die trying.”
Flexing my wings while circling her, inspecting my servant as if she a morsel to feed upon I am struck by her resilient determination to endure beyond the oppressive intimidation I try to inflict. Her emotions finally decided.
“Perhaps.” I tap my chin with a forefinger, the motion not going unnoticed, her tongue out sensing my presence. “Perhaps you are clever, and I only need to state the objective and you will formulate the required actions.”
My wings are drawn back when I halt in front of her. Silence.
“You must succeed in joining them as a companion, spy on them, spy on the Town report everything without raising any suspicion. Including your former House and Empire.”
I add the last as a test and at the mention of both, she doesn’t flinch or in any way react.
“I will succeed or die in the attempt Great One, my loyalty to you absolute. All Snake Kin understand this obligation, the price for the promise of power. Only the powerful are right, all others wrong. Even if those in my House must die to pave the path for me to rise, they would envy me not curse me with their dying breath.”
Callous, an uncaring grab for power, the Lamia within me rejoices as I lead my servant to a newly created pit trap, my Master grumbling at the cost of mana, triple given the presence of the other Intruder Group.
“Great One, how will they be alerted to my presence? The Pit Trap is deep, and I need to stretch to even glimpse above.”
My look as I reply causes her to shrink back. “I will do my part and you need to do your part.”
“Yes, Great One, forgive my doubt, never again will I do so.”
--- Son of Swift Spear POV
“Why should we haul you out?” The Snake Kin was lucky, the two spears which should have impaled her broke off, her lower snake body able to squirm safely in the space provided.
“Insolent young Kin. Alasse, Daughter of House Burning Fang, Servant of the Golden Scale Empire will reward you upon return to safety, a favour or a boon, and my magic will prove a huge benefit to your meagre grouping.”
Her demeaning voice for one stranded and needing help is utterly unrepentant.
Helmer offers an opinion. “You can climb out yourself you stupid Snake, your hands reach the rim!”
“Stupid you call me. I name you so. My staff is my power, I throw it out and try to follow and possibly I am attacked while defenceless. My Staff will never leave my side, death first. Enough of this banter, rescue for reward or would you prefer a thick bone to chew upon my feeble-minded Dog Kin?”
Helmer turns away muttering through closed jowls.
“Blessalla grab her staff, while I grab the hand.”
She isn’t a dead weight for all her arrogance, her need for rescue and continued life as strong as any Kin. Her snake tail, trying to slither up the smooth wall ineffective once above the pit floor. Blessalla and I struggle, and the Snake Kin daggles.
“I admit my mistake, you would stand no chance of extricating yourself, Snake. Once in the hole, you would remain, your tail useless.”
With that said and an unusual silence from haughty Alasse, Helmer assists Blessalla and shortly after we have her rescued. The three of us sprawl about resting while she dusts herself off and without askance slithers towards the path.
Helmer’s jowls flap from the incredulous shaking of his head. The snout of Blessalla remains open for a time beyond polite for a lady, while I learn more about a Kin few in my Pride have direct contact with. I break their stunned expressions with a belly laugh, controlled due to the danger, yet making my point as they focus upon me.
“Well, we best chase after her highness in case she falls into another hole.”
Helmer replies, “I for one wish so, a second reward for the same tasty serving of cold arrogance.”
--- Waleran the Calm POV
I growl and chew over the distaste in my maw and assume the appropriate diplomatic stance, straight back, arms folded over my chest to welcome the unwelcomed refugee, which regrettably is my current duty.
“Halt Snake Kin. You have slithered closed enough as I don’t wish to be infected by your presence.”
She continues to advance, of course, half a slither. Three paces to anyone normal before drawing herself up failing to reach my height. I ease out a grizzle from between my jaws, flashing my pointed teeth challenging her deliberate overstep, erm well whatever, the arrogance of Snake Kin knows no bounds.
“I, Alasse, Daughter of House Burning Fang, Servant of the Golden Scale Empire am shocked by your display of hostility, are we not all Kin? Are our shared circumstances not sufficient cause to join our strengths to ensure our survival?”
Shocked? A Snake Kin shocked? Never heard of such a thing. Before I reply, a Dog Kin and Lion Kin appear, easing slightly in front of her and while she casts them a look, perhaps disapproving, ugh snakeheads. I eye the Lion Kin and recognise his linage from his hunt necklace and take a step forward, unaware of my action until completed.
“Son of Swift Spear, I, Waleran the Calm offer sincere condolences from the Bear Kin Clan of Red Valley may your father forever hunt in the afterlife and may you draw upon his wisdom often.” I raise my Maul high.
He raises his Spear to return my salute, the sorrow in his eyes unmistakable. The Dog Kin remains silent, nodding his agreement.
“Yes, very touching, life is death, for a great hunter or a youth on his first hunt, we have an urgency to leave this place.”
I growl and then control my emotion, I am after all known for my calm, although the Snake Kin truly tests me.
“Alasse, you overstep, tradition, solemn recognition between Kin you have disturbed with your disrespect. We suffer your company as we surely don’t welcome it.”
A Badger Kin? What a motley collection and before I can enquire the Dog Kin interrupts with a laughing growl.
“Why Miss Blessalla, you who wished for its rescue has your sympathy been shattered by the plain truth?”
“Dog, you lack respect for my power as do you all, show the way out or clear the way so I can proceed.”
Before a brawl commences another voice speaks.
“We are companions for now. We all show respect or stay silent.” Son of Swift Spear eyes each of his companions and then addresses me. “Greeting Waleran the Calm, while Alasse persists in being less than diplomatic, she speaks the truth, we expected to climb stairs …”
I fold my arms preparing myself to reveal to them a cold hard truth. “The Quest Dungeon is closed. More groups will enter once all of those who have survived have reported their findings and their reports considered. Too many deaths, first the grief from the plague and now the easy slaughter without the recovery of many dead or the telling of the deeds of those brave Kin. I volunteered to receive any survivors offering food and the binding of wounds while we wait.”
“There will be no more, brave Waleran, I am certain your eyes gaze upon the remaining survivors,” said Blessalla a tear escaping, quickly wiped away.
“Well, I offer you food and the comfort of a prepared camp. We can wait together.”
“We accept and are grateful, even Alasse who will restrain her joy,” replied Son of Swift Spear.
“You misjudge me, hunter, at your peril, there is no joy to restrain.”
Her hiss lingers.
“I remember an oversight, to give once more my thanks,” I say. “The Bear Kin, honour the Dog Kin, your land does us a great service in separating the Bear Kin from the Snake Kin Empire and for that mighty purpose you have our sympathies.”
She spits and her tail coils about. The eyes though wish to strike me down while her staff is shaken in my direction and I am fortunate her garbled retort contains few words.
“Prepare to die …”
The Lion Kin bravely places his body between the enraged, yes, I think I can call her enraged, Snake Kin and myself. Unnecessary. Given her frenzy, she will most likely miscast her spell and by then I will be squeezing her snakeskin neck. Perhaps Son of Swift Spear realises this …
Looking over his shoulder while placing his paws, and pads facing the Snake Kin in a calming motion he makes an offer.
“Join as our companion Waleran the Calm and as companions, our disagreements can be reconciled, slights forgiven.”
If a Snake Kin’s eyes couldn’t bulge, Alasse’s manage to do so, boring into the back of the Lion Kin hunter’s head and adolescent mane, which fortunately he is oblivious to and yet I am not.
“Being the last within the Dungeon, I agree and …”
{Conditions met, Son of Swift Spear do you wish to promote your Intruder Group to form a Questor Group? Y/N}
I read the message and I am sure others in our Intruder Group do also. Even Alasse is silent.
I hear Son of Swift Spear release a breath. “The writing on the Sacred Statue describes Questor Groups and yet none wise enough to discern a specific meaning in the naming. What has made our company suitable?”
He spoke the words to the wind, his awe the same as ours, especially mine. I instantly think of our motley group of companions. Each different Kin for a start.
“We are different Kin Son of Swift Spear, no groups before us have been so motley,” I answer.
“Save your motley for lesser beings, a Daughter of House Burning Fang isn’t motley.”
A moment of silence and alas all except Alasse burst into growls and howls of laughter including myself, much to her dismay.