“No, we’re not adding any salt!” Gel declared, crimson whip waving about the kitchen for emphasis. “I don’t care what the recipe says, I’ve told you what that tastes like, it’s hideous. You’ll ruin the whole thing!”
“No, I won’t.” Sean said calmly, tossing in a pinch with now-practiced motion. “It’s going to dissolve in the stew. You’ll be fine, you won’t even be able to taste it. I promise.”
As if to discredit him, an ominous-looking bubble formed on the surface of the stew as the rock salt they had taken from Dry Run landed into the pot. A loud pop cracked through the kitchen, louder than such a bubble had any right to be, and two more bubbles quickly followed. This time, they popped in unison… and then the stew, which Sean had adjusted to a low boil for this final step, simply cooled off. As if there weren’t any fire underneath it at all.
Okay, haven’t seen stew do that before. Sean double-checked himself against the recipe Auntie Ta had given him, confirmed he had executed it flawlessly, and then dipped a finger in to taste.
It got all the way into his mouth before the gelaton remembered he couldn’t taste anything.
Sean sighed internally.
“Oooh, hey! You were right!” Gel declared, as the first drops landed on his mass. “This tastes nothing like salt!”
“I told you. It’s just a flavor-enhancer here.” Sean said, lifting the pot and moving it over to where Auntie Ta had prepared a spot for it to rest. The flame mote that he had been cooking over dimmed. Auto-off heating elements in spirit form. Handy.
“I fully believe you!” Gel affirmed brightly, before admitting. “At least, now I do. Now just lift that pot up, and let’s dump it all down here! I won’t spill a drop on her floor, I promise.”
Auntie Ta laughed out loud at that, a wild, free sound. The olive-skinned woman paused as she stuffed a few more provisions into a cloth sack for their trip. A floof jumped into the bag when her head turned towards them, and she caught it without looking.
“You don’t have to worry about spills in here, Gel. Nor do I ever worry about tidying up. My floofs here…” She held up the puff-ball, its eyes wide with excitement. “Would never let food go–”
A distant roar shook the palm trees outside the cottage, interrupting her. Auntie Ta’s head swiveled sharply in the direction of the oasis. A second roar, pained and angry this time, followed shortly after.
“Rastegar!”
The druid snapped her fingers, and Sean ducked as both her staff and every floof in the room shot towards her. Her fingers curled around the staff and the now fierce-faced woman spoke a single, harsh word that Sean couldn’t understand. There was a loud crack and then the floor – or rather, the earth – rose up and swallowed her. An instant later, the sudden human-sized hill of emerald sand and dirt fell back to the ground.
Auntie Ta was gone. Floofs and all.
Outside, Sean heard a splash from Warabe’s pond and the turtle-man’s speed was so swift his pulse sense barely registered the turtle-like creature’s charge off into the trees before Warabe’s heartbeat faded away. In the distance, cries of defiance, pain, and the splitting of fallen trees mixed in with booming clashes of powerful combatants echoed towards them.
It had all happened in less time than it would have taken Gel to melt a marmlat.
Sean followed through the door an instant later, dashing past the now softly glowing, and still ridiculously overgrown, garden.
“What about our stew!?” Gel cried, his crimson whip having missed the pot by mere inches on their way out. “We could have finished that first!”
“We can finish it later, they might need our help!” Sean said, speeding up to a full sprint the instant he cleared the garden. “They’ve been kind enough to us, we’re not letting them fight whatever this is alone!”
“Well of course we’re not.” Gel said, sounding slightly offended at the insinuation. “But that stew was supposed to be your first magical dish! It could have given us a boon for the fight!”
Sean, admittedly, hadn’t considered that. But he still felt that arriving early, rather than late, was always the best way to show up to a battlefield. Right now, his instincts were in full agreement.
“... Okay fine, you’re right. We shouldn’t keep them waiting for allies.” Gel begrudgingly admitted as the slime’s whip shot out and disintegrated a clear path forward through a bush. A crimson axe appeared at the end of it. “But we’re going back for that stew, after this is over!”
“Of course.” Sean readily agreed, leaping straight through the opening Gel had made and accepting the weapon his friend had just made for him. A large, bone shield formed its way out of his left arm.
“And whoever or whatever this is, we’re eating their entire face for interrupting our meal!”
A thunderclap tore through the trees ahead of them, and green lightning crackled out of an otherwise clear sky to strike down in multiple flashing arcs.
Got-damn, Auntie Ta. Sean thought, impressed. He adjusted his stride mid-step to prevent that brief moment of distraction from sending him into a tumble. I hope that was you.
“... assuming there’s anything left when we get there.” Gel amended, before pressing his mass up against Sean’s ribs as if to urge his companion to greater speed. “Hurry! Before that manticore finishes off our food!”
Another resounding boom came from up ahead, and another roar of outrage and pain followed it.
Or before he gets finished off. Sean thought, grimly. It doesn’t sound like he’s the one winning.
He hadn’t known the manticore for very long, but the respect Rastegar had paid them in their first meeting hadn’t been forgotten. Neither had Auntie Ta’s kindness in letting a random undead stay in her home – in her kitchen – for a while, just to teach him new ways to cook. Not to mention this oasis’s real function, as a safe, neutral place for all who needed water out here.
A cold, burning anger welled up within the gelaton at the thought of someone defiling the sanctity of this place. It wasn’t his home, but it was one they had been invited into. He would help defend it. Sean poured on a little more speed, wishing Auntie Ta had taken them with her when she had cast whatever magic that was – or that he knew some for himself.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Just a little bit longer, guys. Sean promised the strange trio who had taken them in. We’re almost there.
—------------------------
Sean broke through the final strand of bushes to find a scene straight out of a fantasy warzone. Like Michael Cray had been given a 50 million dollar budget for a single shot and the script’s only description was ‘unchecked elemental carnage’. He came to a sudden halt in the grass, just trying to take it all in.
A dozen or more giants were engaged in open combat all across the oasis. These were not your ‘half-again as tall as human’ varieties. Each was nearly as tall as the palm trees beside them, with rock-hewn clubs and clothing that appeared to have been sewn together from entire creatures rather than in set patterns. Their muscled arms alone were easily the size of Sean’s entire body, and the ‘boom’ sounds he had been hearing earlier came each time they struck their opponents.
Which were, for the most part, those very same palm trees. While there were dozens of desert creatures participating in the fray, the giants were mostly focused on trying to beat back the desert grove itself. Many had four or five trees surrounding them that were all rearing back and slamming the ends of their heavy trunks into the gigantic humanoids. Kutrilons exploded over them at times, and wherever they did the giants grunted in pain as oversized flesh sizzled in the open sun.
Did she turn the trees and their fruit hostile?
Not all of the giants fought alone, at least half of them were accompanied by massive sand wurms whose mouths housed a truly unbelievable number of rotating teeth. Sean watched a single one rise up and slam its open lotus flower-style face down onto a pair of giant scorpions. Its hideously wrinkled, grey body undulated like a snake choking down an egg, and the fates of its sudden meal were easy to guess.
I swear to Greg Lucas, if we get sarlac’d today we are going to carve our way out no matter how long it takes. ‘Millennium of suffering’ my bone-white ass.
Rastegar was fighting three of the giants all at once, each riding a sand wurm like it was some kind of wriggling warhorse as they circled him. The manticore’s tail flashed out again and again as he whirled around, deflecting blows and striking out in equal measure as his immense, lion-shaped paws swiped for legs, arms, and throats. The oasis’s waterside protector now had two broken wings, one of which looked like it had nearly been ripped off. Another of his legs and both sides of his belly were practically fountaining dark blood judging by the brutal gashes above and the spreading stains below each of his wounds.
Despite his obvious heavy injuries, and the fact that Rastegar was clearly taking the worst of each new exchange, the manticore fought on without hesitation. His regal lips curled back in a defiant sneer even as his opponents – who for some reason did not seem any larger than he from this distance – jeered openly at their quarry.
Warabe flowed in and out of multiple encounters, glowing globes of emerald water held in each hand as the turtle-man spun through the field of blood-soaked grass. He flicked them at every giant that came within range, momentarily slowing limbs by just enough that an intended blow could – or, in many cases, couldn’t – be dodged. Sean could see Warabe’s bones poking through in several places they shouldn’t, and though the turtle-man looked every bit as injured as the manticore, his fluid movements certainly didn’t show it.
Sean was in awe at the sheer grit of the two, not to mention the rest of the oasis’s usual visitors who were fighting back with savage ferocity. Defending this territory like it was their own.
Even so, the battle was desperate. They had made good time getting back to the oasis, but now it looked like they were joining the losing side. There had to be a hundred or more combatants all told, and most of those Sean couldn’t see even from here.
Out of all of them though, Auntie Ta was the real monster.
The olive-skinned druid woman fought like a feral nightmare. Every time she moved, the forces of nature went with her. Entire trees bent, whole bushes sprouted from nothing, and even the grass parted or thickened to hamper the movements of her four opponents. None of whom could close the gap despite their enormous height and mass advantage, because of the howling winds caused by the literal mini-tornados whipping around her.
Sean watched two more emerald bolts of lightning crack out of a clear sky to fry a pair of howling giants like cracked eggs over a searing hot pan. Each of them fell to their knees, landing with a rumbling impact, only for the flora around them to rise up in a sudden wave. An instant later, only fading screams could be heard as the pair sank into twin holes in the earth that rapidly closed over them, the oasis’s vibrant water splashing over their last hope of an exit.
Blood trickled down in small streams from the roots of Auntie Ta’s dark hair, and a savage grin settled onto her lips as she licked it away. Her eyes were wild, shimmering with a bright green light. She reached forward with one hand, beckoning – no, daring – her foes to come closer.
Massive grey wurms launched themselves at either side of the furious woman, but they were battered aside by palm trees swinging like golf clubs. Grey blood fountained through the air. Sean couldn’t help but notice the arc of Auntie Ta’s staff in that moment had mirrored the path each tree had taken. Her remaining opponents shared a glance, clear hesitation crossing their brutish faces, before the pair resumed swinging their massive clubs in an attempt to splatter the druid all over the grass.
If he was being honest, in that moment Sean wasn’t entirely sure where his presence could make the most impact. Or who might not make it through this if they didn’t get his help. He watched a giant kick its enormous, hide-covered foot, uprooting an entire bush worth of bright red berries and splattering the trio of nermites growling in front of it like they were nothing. The foot stomped on a familiar-looking ant whose back was still laden with acquired loot on its way back down, crushing the poor insect before it had a chance to react.
While Sean’s instincts were telling him to avoid direct sight lines and go for surprise attacks against distracted opponents – the outraged slime in his chest had other ideas.
“Did they just–Kill them!” Gel shouted in sudden, righteous fury, his crimson whips already rearing back in anticipation of launching themselves at the nearest enemy. “Kill them all! That was our loot! Our loot! Make. Them. PAY!!”
Sean’s frozen moment of indecision evaporated at the same time, and the next thing he knew he was charging headlong at the giant that had just killed one of their ants. One of the few, small creatures that had done nothing in this world but help them out. He crossed the remaining yards between them in silent, growing fury, swinging his right arm back to hack the giant’s trunk-sized leg like it was an old tree.
With a soundless cry, the gelaton struck with its full power. All three of its blows landed at once, slicing and melting into its opponent from multiple angles.
Above them, the wounded giant bellowed in surprise and pain, and its massive body buckled down onto one knee. Sean’s inner savagery reveled in the sound.
This battle isn’t over. Sean thought, already dashing past for the second leg. Not while we’re still–oh shit!
In his haste to hack his opponent down to size, the gelaton had missed the giant’s backhand blow hurtling towards them. He took the attack right on his shield– and the entire left half of his body as the giant literally swatted them away.
YOU HAVE BEEN STRUCK BY A DUNE GIANT FOR 0 DAMAGE (0 TOTAL, 10 BASE MULTIPLIED BY 200% DUE TO BLUDGEONING DAMAGE, MINUS 16 DUE TO INHERENT DAMAGE RESISTANCE AND MINUS A FURTHER 4 DUE TO SHIELD HARDNESS).
Sean flew backwards off into the air, somehow managing to land on his feet a dozen yards away thanks to a sudden upsurge of grass catching them. His burning orbs flicked over the prompt that had just appeared in his vision for a brief second before dismissing it. Ten damage was no small number, and Sean knew that blow hadn’t been more than a reactionary swipe by the giant – not a true attack. Still, it looked like his hardened body was up for it. Then, the second prompt he had been hoping for appeared.
Your damage resistance and your bone shield’s hardness has negated a total of 20 bludgeoning damage. Momentum Shift has automatically empowered your next blow with this attack potential.
Annnd there it is.
Sean’s skull stretched into a savage smile of his own as he charged back into the fight. He could feel the crimson axe – and hell, his entire arm – practically vibrating with channeled power from momentum shift. Gel cackled in his mind as the slime read the prompt as well, and their shared gaze landed on the only sorry foe within their reach. All around them, the battlefield raged.
For one brief moment however, the two bonded symbiotes of death and chaos shared the same thought.
I’m going to make you eat that… and then I am going to eat you.