The road leading North out of Jaskar city was well maintained. At least, at this proximity to the city.

A wagon rattled past Clay as he continued his progress along the road. The driver of the carriage seemed unhurried, leading the golem to assume the basilisks were less of a problem than the hunter's guild receptionist had led him to believe. Nonetheless, Clay checked the small knife at his waist. It was a diminutive weapon, but its presence made him feel more secure.

Now that Clay could see through the shadows of Orgas's perpetual darkness, the wilderness of the plains held an unmistakable beauty. The flames that bled up from the darkened soil were shown as beacons in the dark. The red and orange lights seemed to dance as he passed. The golem recalled the bonfire in the court of Amri. The mysterious figure that had stepped out of the pyre flashed through his mind. He found himself gazing into the small flames that flickered as he passed them by, hoping to see the figure once more.

The city had grown distant on the horizon. From a distance, the lights of the city sparkled, the whole of Jaskar twinkled like a jewel in the darkness.

Moving along the road, Clay noticed the rocky outcroppings were becoming more and more abundant. As yet, the golem hadn't heard any signs of life from the wilderness. Only the occasional traveler passed by in hurried silence.

Clay walked along the road until tall rocks rose all around him. Calmly the golem kept to his progress.

A scattering of pebbles alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone. The noise had come from behind him. Grasping the handle of the small blade at his waist, Clay drew his weapon. Turning towards the source of the sound, the golem advanced.

He heard the rocks and dust crunch beneath his feet, wishing in vain that he could silence the earth. Clay walked off the road and began to weave his way through the boulders that surrounded him.

Again, he heard the sound of scattering rocks. This time, the sound came from straight ahead. He slowed his pace, the crunch beneath his feet sounded raucously loud to his ears.

Climbing over a large rock, he saw the source of the sound. It matched the image from the poster in the guild hall. Half the size of a dwarf, the basilisk sat on its belly. Four legs stuck out from its torso. And, its head rose out from a long neck that curved up from its body. Three spikes jutted out dangerously from its tail.

Clay stopped for a moment as he watched the creature. The basilisk hadn't noticed its audience and swiveled its head back and forth, tasting the air with its forked tongue.

Finding his footing on the rock, Clay held his knife out in front of him. Crouching on the rock, he gripped the blade firmly with both hands. The rock-hard coils of muscle in his legs tensed as he prepared himself.

In a moment, the golem was airborne. The basilisk was oblivious to the heavy mass of living stones that dropped down from above. The knife point sank deep into the spinal column of the unsuspecting creature as the full weight of the golem fell upon it.

It was over. The basilisk died instantaneously. Its weight collapsed to the ground as Clay landed on it. Red blood sprayed upward from the puncture in its flesh and then settled into a steady drip.

Clay was confused. He had expected to kill the creature, but it had happened so fast. Looking down he saw the sharp eyes of the basilisk staring at him. As if asking, what are you? At least, that's what Clay was asking.

His shock wearing off, Clay proffered the burlap sack and began to hack off the creature's spiked tail.

That had gone surprisingly easy. Now it was time to find the rest.

Stalking off amongst the rocks, the golem found himself more comfortable up in the air. Dancing from boulder to boulder, Clay appreciated the silence with which he could move off the ground.

Observing the terrain, he wove from one rocky outcropping to the next. His ears were carefully attuned to the slightest disturbances below.

As he passed overhead, he noticed there were many large gaps in the rocks. A large network of cave entrances honeycombed the terrain. Clay wondered how many of the overgrown lizards were waiting just beneath the surface. Regardless, the golem felt confident in his stone physique that the threat posed by the basilisks was minimal.

Dancing, silently, from one rock face to the next, he noticed them. Two of the creatures stood out among the rocks, their forked tongues licking the air.

Carefully observing the pair, Clay slowed his progress. His eyes were attuned to their every movement. He inched closer, his hand clasping the knife handle. Just as he began to tense his muscles for the pounce, he heard it.

A rasping cry sounded behind him.

Clay felt himself deflate as he watched the pair of basilisks turn to him. Guttural hisses came from their sharply-toothed maws.

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Recognizing the element of surprise was lost to him, Clay leaped from his raised position at the nearest basilisk. Seeing his attack, the pair jumped to escape. But, he was already upon them.

Driving his blade deep into the neck of the closer of the two, he unleashed a torrent of blood. The creature cried with pain. But, the cry was quickly replaced with a gurgle as its lungs filled with the red liquid.

Without waiting to see the creature's end, Clay reached with his free hand to grab its fleeing partner. His stone fingers raked across its leathery hide as the basilisk managed to evade his grasp.

Then the golem noticed it. He had company. The earlier cry had announced him as an intruder in their territory. And, blood had been spilled.

The dying basilisk rasped painfully through the gurgling hole in its neck until at last it fell silent on the ground. In its place, a dozen hissing beasts rose from the bowels of the earth to wage war on the intruder. Clay felt a current of energy race down his spine.

Was this fear?

In a moment, they were on him. Spiked tails slammed into his sides and vice-like jaws snapped at his limbs. Buffeted by the bludgeoning assault, Clay lost his balance and fell to the ground. The frenzy of sharp teeth and razor-like claws shredded his clothing.

A set of teeth clasped tightly to his free hand. His fingers caught in the vice. Then he realized it. The basilisk's teeth were shattering.

Every time the hissing creatures bit into his stony flesh, their sharp teeth were chipped away by the contact. They had thrown him off balance. But otherwise, he was fine.

Clay clenched his fist tightly around the jaw of the basilisk, a steady crunch of brittle teeth gave way under the pressure. The lizard's hiss turned into a scream as the golem raised the knife in his other hand over his body and slammed it into the miserable creature's skull.

The frenzied snapping continued unabated, as more and more of the hissing creatures swarmed out to defend their territory.

Pulling the blade free, Clay raked his blade across the exposed necks of three more of the swarming creatures. Two of them fell to the ground, blood gurgling forth from their opened throats. The third one jumped backward, a huge gash leaking blood out onto the ashen rocks.

For each basilisk he felled, a dozen more took its place.

Spiked tails beat down on him. Broken shards scattered as the bony spikes slammed against his stony hide.

Clawing out, Clay grasped one of the flailing tails. Using the creature for leverage, he began to pull himself up as the barrage continued. The basilisk spun its body and strong jaws snapped at his clenched knuckles. Despite the creature's efforts, he continued to pull himself up. Finally at eye level with the massing beast, he drove the knife point into the side of the basilisk's body. The creature wheezed raggedly as its struggles slowed and then stopped.

The onslaught persisted as tooth, claw, and spike raked across his impervious skin. His clothing couldn't withstand the punishment and was quickly becoming tatters.

While the assault continued, Clay steadily hacked, slashed, and stabbed with his knife until finally, he heard a definitive snap of metal as the blade broke off from the handle. The slab of metal lodged in the tissues of a spasming basilisk.

Despite the loss of his weapon, the beasts pressed on with their attack. Releasing his hold on the broken blade's handle, the golem reached out with both hands and began to grapple with the attacking lizards.

Bone and sinew snapped under the weight of Clay's struggles.

Grasping the neck of one basilisk, the golem broke the creature's neck at a right angle. White bone jutting out through the viscera. This pattern of attack continued until finally Clay managed to find his feet underneath him.

His feet squarely beneath him, Clay locked his knees as the creatures attempted to batter his legs and force him to the ground once more. Standing, the golem towered over the writhing mass of lizards. He struck out with heavy fists, caving in the skulls as fast as they popped up.

As he pulverized skull bone after skull bone, the number of beasts rushing to join the fray fell to zero. Recognizing their doom a few of the creatures let out rasping calls of retreat. The basilisks began to flee, but many couldn't disengage with the tangle of the dead and so joined their fellows with crushed foreheads.

At last, the onslaught had ended. Clay surveyed the battlefield. It was a horror to behold. The golem was astonished by the sheer violence of the scene. He gave up trying to count the dead and instead pulled out the burlap sack meant for the tails.

Miraculously, the bag and his pants had survived the encounter. His shirt had not been so fortunate as it had been shredded during the encounter.

With his knife lost to the battle, Clay began to twist and tear the tails of the dead basilisks until they broke off from the bodies. He continued this gory process until there was no more space in his bag. He had failed to keep track of the number as he loaded his bloody prizes into the burlap sack.

With a final disgusted look on his work, the golem began his trek back to the road.

Once he found the road he dug through his pockets remembering his paperwork. A deep sense of frustration came over Clay as he realized it had been lost to the tangle of basilisks. Uneasy about the loss, he concluded that he'd just have to explain the situation to the city guards and hope they didn't throw him back in Sijjin prison.

Having decided, he began his journey back to Jaskar.

"Papers," the guard demanded as Clay stood shirtless before him. A bloody bag dripped over his shoulder.

The golem let out a sigh as he explained the situation to the guards. His explanation did nothing to alleviate the guard's suspicion. But, the bag full of basilisk tails was enough to convince the guard to provide him with an escort back to the hunter's guild.

"Wow," the young woman he'd spoken with before said, stunned by the sight.

His escort had accepted the confirmation of the hunter's guild receptionist and had left to return to his post.

The receptionist opened the bloody bag, streaks of red goop staining the floor in front of her desk.

"Uh, let's take this outside," she said.

Curious eyes from the dining hall were peering out at the newcomer. Clay felt the heat of the scrutiny pierce his back as he lifted the bag and carried it out the door.

Behind him, the young human woman came bounding after him. It was obvious that she was excited.

"How many did you kill?" Her voice hushed with awe.

"I don't know," Clay responded he didn't.

He dumped the contents of the sack out and the hunter's guild receptionist began to count. "54... 55... 56..."

"Fifty-six," she repeated softly. "You killed fifty-six basilisks!" she exclaimed.

Clay decided not to mention all the beasts he had left unharvested.

"How..." Her voice trailed off. "I haven't even finished my shift."

The golem shrugged. "Do you think I could get a change of clothes?" he asked.