Persepera
The 16th of Thargelion
The Year 4631 in the Era of Mortals
It took five hours for Odelia to arrive at the mining camp. During those five hours, Lyssa, Gigator, and Grimmolt argued and debated their way through a half dozen plans on how to hunt the basilisk. The principal problem was that of the creature’s gaze, which could turn those who met it to stone. It could be looked at in reflection, as Lyssa had proved, but that did little to help their situation in the dark underbelly of the mountain. The only reflective shield they’d had was now stone, clutched in the hands of a dwarf that had given his life to help Lyssa hurt the beast. Blinding themselves was also not an option, as the creature was dangerous enough in its own right to tear straight through them, stony gaze or no. They needed ingenuity.
“A trap,” Grimmolt said dryly. “You want to lay a trap to catch a basilisk. It’s no mountain hare to be caught up in the grass. It’s clearly a beast of some intelligence.”
“I never said it would be safe,” Lyssa said. “But I fail to see a better option. If you have one, present it.”
Grimmolt grumbled but refused to elaborate. Lyssa tilted her chin up and eyed the rest of them.
“Let’s continue.”
The next two hours were spent in careful deliberation of how they would set a trap for the basilisk. If Grimmolt noticed they’d passed his deadline, he’d said nothing. Details of the creature’s appearance were revealed piecemeal. The dwarves had discovered a natural cave system the day before and had been ambushed while searching it. The cave was extensive, going deep into the mountain and, should they be able to dispatch the threat, might save them months of work. It wasn’t clear exactly how the basilisk had caused the cave-in but, considering the beast’s stony hide and the timing between the rockfall and the attack, it was a fair assumption that the creature had some degree of gaiamancy.
To set a trap, they needed bait. Lyssa volunteered, pointing out her high Agility and that she was likely the only one who could outrun the creature should things go wrong, but Gigator and Grimmolt both shot the suggestion down. It was too risky for her position and she was the only fighter skilled enough at range to blind the creature. This last fact was the key upon which all their planning rested.
Lyssa hadn’t been able to verify that her previous encounter had blinded the eye of the basilisk, but she was confident it had. There seemed no other reason it would turn and run when it could have easily killed her. Their goal was to lure the basilisk into an area where Lyssa was already hiding, giving her an opportunity to take out the monster’s other eye. Once blinded, the dwarves and guards would hack through the hard shell of its body with hammers and pickaxes, felling the creature before it could use magic or fang against them.
This still came with a great deal of risk for Lyssa, as she would have to be looking at the creature in order to make the shot, but the lion’s share of danger lay with Grimmolt, who refused to let anyone else take the job of bait.
“They were my kin, my responsibility. I’ll be thrice-cursed if I let anyone else take the position in my place.”
There was no arguing with him after that. When they finally came to a consensus, dawn was peeking up over the eastern horizon. Lyssa fought to stifle a yawn as they emerged from the planning tent. She’d barely slept the last two days and could feel a headache coming on. A small icon of tier one Exhaustion blinked below her vitals. Still, it was best to press forward. No one wanted to risk the camp getting attacked by the basilisk while they waited and Grimmolt certainly wasn’t going to give her time to sleep while the basilisk still lived.
The air deep into the mine was stale. Lyssa drew her cloak closer around herself, fighting the urge to shiver though it wasn’t cold. Grimmolt walked ahead, sturdy and uncowed, while Gigator, two squads of soldiers, and the rest of the dwarves followed well behind. Lyssa moved in the middle, searching out potential hiding spots and ambush points. These were few and far between where the dwarves had carved out the mountain. Their workmanship was concise and clean, leaving smooth tunnels behind. The only ambush points were when the passage branched, and even then the benefits were slim. Once they reached the natural cave, things looked much more promising. Jagged rocks jutted out at odd angles. Stalactites and stalagmites littered the ceiling and floor respectively.
Lyssa took position on a high shelf, about three meters tall and partially covered by stony protrusions. This put her close to the ceiling, which would hopefully be out of the natural eyeline of the basilisk once it came. Gigator and the others waited inside the dwarven passage. Grimmolt stood in the middle of the cavernous room, pointedly ignoring the branching passages on the far side as he produced an intricately detailed shield and warhammer. In the quiet of the cave, the ringing of the warhammer against a stalagmite made every hair on Lyssa’s body stiffen. The sound was high-pitched and carried in the air, like a blacksmith’s strike had been drawn out. Even after the noise faded, Lyssa could hear echoes as the sound traveled down the adjoining passages.
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Grimmolt struck the stalagmite again, producing another sound. This time, a screeching howl came in response. The dwarven leader set his back to the rocks and held his shield up, covering his face. Lyssa activated Stealth and applied tension to her bowstring, waiting for the monster to appear and hoping nothing else would show in its place.
The basilisk didn’t keep them waiting long. Lyssa struggled to keep the breath moving in her throat. She had hoped that the basilisk would rush forward to attack. A moving target was difficult to hit, but the creature would be distracted. Instead, when the basilisk appeared, it was careful. It slunk into view, scaly hide blending well with the stone walls of the cavern.
It was an ambush predator, Lyssa realized, mentally kicking herself. It was going to calculate an attack, not blindly rush forward. She watched it carefully, spotting the broken shaft of her arrow sticking out just above its left eye. That spot was a bloodied mess, but the arrow hadn’t struck the eye itself. Due to the nature of Drill Shot, the eye was likely injured – but it was not a certainty as she would have liked. If she managed to blind the right eye and, by some dark luck, its left eye still worked, there would be casualties.
There was little point in contemplating that possibility. Lyssa held the tension in her bow, trying to stay as still as possible. The creature glanced around the room and she moved her stare to Grimmolt. She didn’t know if the basilisk could turn her to stone by accidentally meeting her gaze or if it had to be conscious, but she had no desire to test the limitations of its abilities. Grimmolt, still behind the shield, struck the stalagmite behind him with the warhammer, producing another ringing sound.
The basilisk crouched, ready to spring, and Lyssa released her arrow. She had applied the Drill Shot maneuver, hoping to bring about a similar effect as before, but had underestimated the basilisk’s speed as it lunged forward. The arrow sank into the creature’s face, burrowing as it spun, but it struck the basilisk’s cheek, not its eye. It roared, continuing its charge toward Grimmolt. The dwarf crouched and slammed the bottom of his shield into the ground. In a flash of light, Grimmolt was surrounded by a cube of metal.
The basilisk crashed into the shield-cube a moment later, knocking it backward through the stalagmite. Lyssa had another arrow nocked but no angle on her target. It struck back and forth with its head, trying to fit its mouth around Grimmolt’s protection. The cube of metal glowed blue, then a shockwave of energy erupted from it, knocking the creature back. Lyssa stumbled as the energy washed over her. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but it did knock her out of Stealth. She hissed her displeasure and averted her eyes as the basilisk’s head snapped upward in her direction. Below, Grimmolt was roaring his anger.
“I will tear you apart! I will peel your scales away and use them as a loincloth! I will—”
Lyssa tuned out the irate dwarf and focused on reactivating her Stealth. Her position was compromised and she doubted that the basilisk was going to let her get an easy shot. She threw herself off the shelf and onto a stalactite a few meters away. The stone was slick and moist, altogether not a good place to cling to. She kicked away from it, landing six meters from Grimmolt. The dwarf’s shield had reverted to its normal size and he banged his warhammer against it to draw the basilisk’s attention.
Lyssa chanced a look at the basilisk and saw that it was, thankfully, otherwise occupied. Its focus centered entirely on Grimmolt, deadly eyes locked on the ringing shield. The creature’s front claws dug into the stone ground. A moment later, a sharp crack sounded through the air and a stalactite above Grimmolt fell from the ceiling. The dwarf patriarch jumped sideways but was forced to drop his guard. The basilisk ran forward, mouth agape, ready to swallow the dwarf whole. There was no time to aim, Lyssa pulled the bow back and let the arrow fly. It wobbled in flight, seeming almost to move in slow motion, then sank into the basilisk’s eye. The creature bellowed its pain and bowled into Grimmolt, crushing him against a stalagmite.
“Now!” Lyssa shouted.
Battle cries echoed off stone as guards and dwarves flooded into the space, surrounding the bucking basilisk. They swung with vengeance, coordinating their attacks against the creature’s limbs to render it immobile. With sword, hammer, and pickaxe, they broke through the stony hide and ravaged the creature’s soft limbs.
Lyssa ran for Grimmolt. She placed one hand on his shoulder and the other beneath his helmet, trying to move him into a position that would allow her to check his condition. He was heavier than she expected for one of his size, but still within her capability. His eyes were unfocused but moving, swimming in their sockets. She turned her head and put what remained of an ear to his mouth. A wheezing rattle sounded, barely audible above the din.
“Gigator! Quickly!”
The sauros separated from the fighting and was at her side in a moment.
“He needs Odelia. Take him!”
Gigator scooped the dwarf up with more tenderness than she’d expected. Without a word, the sauros took off back through the mine. With Grimmolt out of her hands, Lyssa returned her attention to the basilisk. The others had broken its stance, wounding it enough that it could no longer support itself on its legs, but it snapped at them blindly with its enormous head. None could get close to it without risking being bit in half, a fate they were not particularly keen on.
Lyssa nocked an arrow and let it fly straight into the creature’s maw, then sent another. Taking slow, measured steps, she sank arrow after arrow into it. The guards and dwarves backed away as the basilisk thrashed helplessly on the ground, roaring its defiance, but Lyssa continued her steady march toward it. The shafts mounted in number, grouped tightly in the top of its mouth, its throat, its eyes, anywhere a weakness might be.
The basilisk grew sluggish, its cries mournful. It was close to death and knew it. All fight had left it. Lyssa stood in front of its head, staring down at the bloodied, reptilian face. It was piteous, limbs smashed into pulp, arrows jutting out at odd angles, but Lyssa couldn’t bring herself to feel for it. It had killed her people.
There was only one justice for that.
She drew out her kopis and plunged it deep into the basilisk’s forehead. The creature spasmed, trying to squirm away, but it was too late. It shuddered once and went limp. A notification appeared in her vision but she ignored it. She turned to find the guards and dwarves had gathered behind her. Every single one covered in mud, blood, and grime.
Every single one held a salute.