Requiem.

During the trip towards the city, we get waylaid by the occasional beast. Mostly they are scared away by our presence, though our merchant tells us that he’s quite adept at handling the ones that roam through his route. He expresses mild concern over the frequency and out of season that some of the encounters are, but overall is grateful for our intimidating bulk making us an undesirable target.

He also seems a bit suspicious of the weather around us, telling us that storms aren’t typically so frequent this time of year. Darling tries to downplay any concerns he may have, relaying from her ‘mount’ that the lands seem untroubled by the unusual weather and that we can offer protection should something unexpected happen.

Like when later that day there was some lizard-like, scaled [Gryphon] that swooped down on us. Before the merchant’s draft beasts could be frightened by its appearance, we projected out our domain to soothe them. A short call brought the monster into lunging range and after Graveskull snagged one of their legs and two of us got a firm grip on their soft tail, a brief flexing of our heavier muscles slammed them into the ground.

When they recovered a moment later and screeched their defiance, Fogmaw spewed an embankment of power against them before they flew off.

One definite advantage to travelling with a well-known merchant is something that occurred shortly afterward. When a squad of soldiers came by from their denser patrols of late, the interview they conducted with him and Darling went far smoother than we imagine it would have had we been travelling alone.

They warned us about a great flying beast in the area they’ve been tracking but have been unable to pin down. They warn us to take as much precaution as we can and just endure should we be attacked. They have some of its arcane signature and can find it when it uses a bunch of power.

We’re not worried and we tell Darling not to as well. If the beast is anything like that flying lizard was, we’re in no real danger, having dealt with it quickly enough to have prevented it from even landing any swipes on us. Our vigilance in these new lands has proven itself fitting, even if our wariness made the meeting with Yojimbo, troublesome.

{Unknown toxin found in tissues, purging in progress.} We chuckle at the reminder from DM that there are so many unknowns still out there, and that while we survived and grew exponentially vast in our previous life, that doesn’t ensure our safety here. We recall that Toyo had something to say about explorers needing more protection from monsters than typical folk. That certainly seems to be the case, even if only due to a greater variety and expected frequency of exposure.

There was some advice he gave in particular… and it’s on the tips of our tongue, but we can’t quite sink our teeth into it. Which is frustrating because he seemed the sort to give out good instruction. Hmm, oh well. It will come to us when it does.

All in all, the trip was quite refreshing. We get a few more battles in from unruly mobs or beasts, some more practice using our abilities around vulnerable allies. Or at least we handled the scenarios as if that were true. The only thing of real note that happened aside from the soldiers was a strafing assault by a blurry, bladed, rain-cloud monster.

We couldn’t quite get a good read on it to inspect what it was, but Graveskull’s reflexes parried each of the dive slashes it tried. We finally ran it off on its last pass when instead of blocking with Graveskull, we whipped our tail at the trailing blade while headbutting the center mass.

The noise the creature made was strange. Pain for sure, but more frustration than injury is what we read from it. But it flew off after that so other than some mild curiosity at what sort of creature it was, it was more novelty than truly noteworthy. Only the merchant’s lack of familiarity with the sort of creature it could have been keeping it in mind.

It must have seen our dancing heads as we’re practicing our ^vocabulary^ as some kind of lure. But trying to invent or adapt a language across species as diverse as bees to snakes will have its hiccups. Besides, it’s not like it would even understand what, “^We claimed your heart and ate your lover in the iron sea,^” even means.

Heck, it’s just a bunch of nonsense we made up to try and expand how well we can speak with the bees. They can hear our song, and understanding can be pushed into it, but they respond more naturally to rhythmic movement and scent. Darling still laughs at some of the wild mistranslations she sees when we practice, able to parse both attempts simultaneously for amazing feedback.

The prohibition on monster speech for regular folks we’ll be meeting or the hunts we’re eventually going to encounter out in the wilds, means the additional language will serve more as a side project. Another layer in our attempts to not need to end sophonts that haven’t earned our ire. {Unknown toxin found in tissues, purging in progress.}

Damnit! We had just about grasped that errant thought from before, but it slipped away again. Now annoyed by these toxin messages we ask Darling to question her new friend about common or virulent ones for the area.

“(Prolific toxins? Ahh, you must mean the [Ample Froggies]. Charming little poison berries, they are. They can live anywhere and everywhere. We’ll get a wash of them during the rainy season on occasion, but the government has really cracked down on keeping their populations in check. They require special permits to own nowadays, as the pricing to keep enough poison resistance supplies and antidotes was deemed too expensive.

“(Of course, that also means that only the nobles with their grand terrariums can afford the beauties. Now they’re more a status symbol than anything else. If your nomadic nest is having trouble after having eaten some, I can certainly offer some general remedies that should help. Though, without knowing what kind of Froggie they ate, much less their own exotic nature, I can’t assure it to be a cure-all.)”

She accepts on our behalf and while Graveskull downs the potion, they continue chatting about the topic. Apparently, these creatures do have astounding adaptability, successfully being cultivated up to the size of medium dogs, while others are small enough to crawl on droplets of water. Not to mention all the environmental permutations they can come from.

They are one of the rare monsters that are generally accepted in society or viewed as a pest instead of something truly dangerous. Based on their descriptions, we wouldn’t mind trying to keep some as pets or find out how they’d interact with the hive. Darling seems a bit reticent about introducing another creature into her home but does admit after her long discussions with the merchant about them, that it should be fine to try.

So, now with another goal for our debut trip to the big city, it is with a lightness in our step that we complete our road companion’s last delivery before the trek turns us to our destination. There is something about the journey itself that makes a goal worth pursuing. The chase being an excitement all its own, especially when we can notice and focus on all the changes happening.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

The last leg of our journey has us crest a final hill and then the opulence of the city is laid out before us. In the far distance we can see the massive walls and towering structures of the city itself. The lands between us all open prairies with only rare cottage structures seeming to serve more as taverns and waystations than anything else.

We are also able to see the other roads leading to and from the city and surrounding countryside. Our quaint caravan leader of two with a broad smile and an eye not on the view but upon his guests an obvious tell that our route here was carefully chosen with this in mind. “(Take your time and enjoy the sights. Sergei and Services will go on ahead. This hill is the last practical place to turn around if you find your mind changing. As once you walk past those stone markers down below, you’ll have entered the City’s Domain. Having poor intentions or fleeing after being brought into its presence will trigger… inquiries.

“(If this is the last I see of you, it was a pleasure meeting you. Until next time, Queen Darling and Requiem.)”

Thankful for his consideration, we rest here and bask in the vista before us. It takes only a few minutes before we are seemingly alone on the hill. “^Well, Requiem. A choice lies before us now, before you. Will you head down there, out yonder and deal with the chaos brought about by such a hive of humanity. Or do we turn away, preferring the quiet of small villages and chance encounters?^”

We can feel another waxing of fate, a buildup of momentum and energy and change. But there are more options than just those two, because this city has more to it than just the press of people, there is history here as well. History that we have touched on, tasted, and been told stories of.

We finally have a moment of epiphany as we see a dance from one of the drones relaying to Darling about small, shiny hoppers that have been found in the temple area that have congested traffic and workflow. A series of thoughts and memories coalesce together. Frogs, full of poison that can adapt to live anywhere, their resurgence during the rainy seasons, the strange notifications from DM about unknown toxins.

Like a veil being lifted there is more now, but none more striking than two important facets. The very first piece of advice I received from something else in this new world. Toyo warned us of alien threats that would come from monsters that could attack our very understanding. We told him that building a mental bulwark was a good project to work on, but then never followed through. DM has been struggling for a while and we didn’t recognize the signs.

The wave of omen crests the breaking point, and we know, {Something comes.} The buildup of power different than it was before, “{Darling, get inside, you and all your kind, inside now or kept far away. There is a dragon coming.}”

Lacking the time or proper preparations in this place to grow DM’s polyp into a bastion for our minds, we instead can only pour more magic and will into our domain expansion and becoming one with it. Yet, even with us bracing ourselves, we know this first strike will be brutal. Already our connection to the land feeds us the terrifying potency of the negative buildup around us, anchored to us deeply.

Saturating ourselves with [Graveflesh] we feel the lethargy and diminution of Graveskull as the concentration of its aspect floods our body. A flash of insight has us bite into that neck and tear out a now recognizable blemish from our flesh. Spitting it away from ourselves just in time for a massive bolt of lightning to blind us, scorch our back, but crater the dirt where the infected piece landed.

“What have you done!”

“We kill you for this!”

“You broke our grave!”

“His remnant is gone!”

“… ~I miss ~my love…”

Her voices folding over one another, their unity broken as she turns to face us. A different band of power is brought to bear on us, not pride this time, but wrath, “{DIE~, you~ stupid~ beast~!}” When she lunges across the ground at us, we see the weight of her tear into the ground, we feel the consolidation of elements as her faux filled form flings itself at us.

Graveskull meets her jaw to jaw, biting at her maw’s lower half while her larger size and ample rage allow her to sink teeth into our craggy hide regardless. A typhoon from Fogmaw and desperate snapping from the rest of us barely holding back her foreclaws from tearing us asunder. Her weaker wings we allow to rake and scratch without impediment until she lances us with her bladed tail and ours whipcracks out and catches it.

Now we are just a tangle of two snarling violent beasts, wrenching each other from side to side, gouging into flesh with tooth and claw, cracking scale under the pressure of beak. Her wings provide her lighter but larger frame the leverage to throw us both into various trees alongside the road. The awkward position of our grapple denying us the ability to take control and use our greater mass to dictate the contest.

Even devoting ourselves fully to this fight with [Devouring Cycle] is just barely enough to endure her assault. Having kept her venomous tail in check our minds and memories of the previous matches with her coming back into focus. Her posturing during our first meeting, and the probing flying attacks she had done on the other occasions afterward. That mind, especially one that could retreat under the effects of the Call is nothing like the possessed creature before us now.

{Misconception of dracoshrum incident likely. Target too frenzied to successfully [Call of the Damned] and communicate intent. Drafting organist to relay message. Requiem must concentrate Call on target body and survive.}

Fogmaw’s reserves of processing begins the difficult task of further infusing the Breathlessness enveloping us. It being the only thing giving us the immaterial to recover from the wounds we’re still taking while also blunting our opponent’s assault upon us. The fog giving avenue for our domain to soothe away some of the boundless aggression leaking from the dragon that’s pushing at our own tenuous control over the berserker lurking in our bloodstream.

Now, forced into quadruple duty and more by holding our Call, shaping it in such a sophisticated manner to attempt to give us the opportunity to open a dialogue. While also being further stressed by the additional funneling into the strength of our enemy, “{^Yes. More!^}”

The intoxication of true, undiluted violence has us lunge and contort ourselves, pinning her back legs with all our own, holding our struggling bodies together as blood and wisps of smoke pour from both our wounds. An exclamation of surprise and frustration before we hear that now distinct inhale from her, even as both our thrashing goes unabated.

This time, when her roar of death crashes into us, our own breath doesn’t divert to suppress it, but continues its prior missions of Calling to her insanity, bridging for our domain, and supplying fuel for our endurance. So, it is a great enough shock to her that she stills for a moment in the aftermath. For after her desiccating screech has passed, and she can see the devastation behind its path where nothing living remains, and yet we are completely unharmed.

It is in this first moment of calm that our temple comes into play, “^Your legacy yet lives, shadow of she who was slain. My knight did not break your grave, nor corrupt your forest. They freed both from the curse of your betrayal.^”

We can feel how Darling’s declaration affects our opponent, the shifting of the bands of power giving the dragon strength, fluctuating under the revelations in the declarations. The armistice stretching on long enough for us to speak as well, “{Believe us or not, we do not care. You can end this fight in retreat or be torn apart in battle. We feel your will and substance wane beneath us even now, choose soon or be devoured for the being an inconvenience.}”

There is a flicker that cracks and ricochets within our domain during a moment where our body was relaxed; now she stands opposite us, wounds still marring the both of us. {Memory magic threat detected. Defense partially successful. Resistance tolerance unacceptably low, more power required,} echoes from within as her wings open wide and she hurls herself into the air. Her voice reaching us from the heavens as a rumble of thunder announces the flash of lightning that carries her away.

“{We~ shall~ see~, Requiem~.}”

The fatigue of battle washes over us as we relax our grip on [Graveflesh] and endure the backlash of using so many abilities at once. We would like for nothing more than to rest for a while, “^You have to decide now, Requiem. If the plan is to see the city, you need to join back with Sergei before the soldiers arrive. Negotiating with them will go far smoother with a native nearby.^”

We’re not really sure what choice we should make, which would prove to have the best outcome. But as we lay here, exhausted and wounded, with the options to stay put or move forward. Well, that’s not much of a decision for us anymore.