CHAPTER TWO [PART FOUR]
Hell
103 Years Since the Citadel's Founding
Year of the Void-Scarring Talon, Month of the Egg.
The lizard-faced figure lay spread-eagled on the sand when my mount’s head hovered over it, giving it a brief reprieve from the sunlight, unless, of course, it had been baking in it deliberately. It blinked. Once, twice.
“Oh, I’m not hallucinating,” it said.
“I can understand you.”
“And I, you. Who are you? I’d move about to get a good look at you, but I find I am devoid of energy.”
I hopped off the mount. The lizard-person frowned.
“What are you?”
“Qhimphal.”
“Ah. Some new people have decided to send their less fortunate to Hell?”
“In a way. Though I don’t think you’ll be seeing any other qhimphal.”
“That’s not some sly threat, is it?”
“No. If I help you, you won’t try to kill me, will you?”
It observed me, contemplating.
“I guess you met one of those roving bands of bandits. We call them Feasters.”
“I did. The name seems quite fitting.”
“They were just called cannibals, once. But then we got more than just kobolds in Hell, and that more was just as appealing a feast for them as their fellow kobolds. Their name changed, in turn.”
“You’re a kobold?”
“Aye.”
“I thought so, but I didn’t want to make an assumption.” I was hesitant to give it whatever was left of the water I had, given I hadn’t seen any sign of whatever might pass as a civilization here, but I decided I’d rather not feel guilty about leaving someone relatively nice to die.
“Considering your present predicament, is it too optimistic to ask you if there’s anywhere else we could get something to drink or eat? Or is Hell that much of a hellscape?”
The kobold chuckled. “It is mostly a hellscape, but there are some… havens.”
“And you might know where we could find one of these havens?”
“I would.”
“And when you say ‘I would’, you wouldn’t happen to be saying that because the alternative is rotting away here?”
The kobold chuckled again, though this time it came out as a raspy cough. “No. I can guide you.”
“And this haven, it wouldn’t be some trap?”
“No. It’s not a trap.”
“I suppose there’s no way for me to tell if you’re being honest or not. The cynical decision would be to leave you here and take my chances. But I’ve grown arrogant in recent days, so I’ll put some faith in you and judge that I can probably handle myself. After all, you’re well aware enough to know I got away from your Feasters without so much as a scratch and walked away with a few new resources in the process.”
“Aye. Whatever you qhimphals are, you’re formidable.”
“Perhaps. Or, I may be the exception. Now, what should I call you?”
“Crust will do.”
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“You can call me Avatar.”
I lifted Crust onto the mount, which she called a tatoun. They were common enough among Hell, and seemed incredibly durable in spite of this planet’s inhabitants' careless treatment of them, mostly thanks to rabid reproduction. It was as if nothing, no amount of cruelty and recklessness Hell’s residents had, would lead to the tatoun’s extinction.
“And we kobolds were the first on Hell. The first to start sending prisoners here. Mostly dissidents. People we no longer wanted to deal with. We kobolds don’t have many laws. We aren’t much fans of being governed. A stupid sentiment given those with power ultimately will tell people what to do or not do either way. And if you don’t listen, you end up here.”
“Not really a planet full of criminals. Just a planet full of the misfortunate.”
“Criticize someone with enough deep pockets, and you'll find yourself calling Hell home. Don’t misunderstand. There are plenty of despicable people who you could say deserve this punishment. Mass murderers. Plague distributors. Cannibals, as I mentioned. And worse, yet. But there are just as many people back home who ought to be here but aren’t because they were smart enough to consolidate their power. Here’s something else worth knowing about Hell. People don’t age here. And they don’t die naturally. If you’d left me back there, I would’ve remained until someone deemed me worthy of being put out of my misery. And probably ate me afterward. Otherwise, eternal suffering for little old me.”
“I can see why it was called Hell.”
“Used to be, some people would also go to Hell willingly. They came with enough resources to live a comfortable life. There was this big city, and it was called Heaven. Full of old kobolds who were on the brink of death, and decided that a life in a kobold-made heaven here would be better. They had plenty of slaves to make that life easy, and no one to tell them otherwise. Not so anymore. Got destroyed, at some point or another. They don’t take that risk now. Hell remains a place where they can extract minerals, and send people they no longer want to deal with. People they’d be happy to see suffer.”
“How do they get the resources off Hell?”
“Damned if I know.”
“Unfortunate.”
“Why, thinking of escaping?”
“I’ve got other places I need to be.”
“Forget about that. Forget about your old life. This is your home now. You’ll have to get used to it. No one leaves Hell.”
“That’s what I’ve been told.” But I’ve got to hold out hope. Someone nearly escaped, Lhu had said, so there had to be a way. “How can you tell where these havens are?”
“Simple enough. Wait till night falls.”
“We’re just walking aimlessly, then?”
“Maybe we’ll run into one by chance. Havens make themselves seen by emitting a light in the sky that looks almost like a star.”
“Does everyone know this?”
“If you spend enough time here, you figure it out.”
“And they’ll welcome us?”
“If you mean no trouble. And if you can afford it.”
“You have money here?”
“We barter. Havens are usually well protected. Food and drink and housing as payment. Most people are smart enough not to bother attacking them. Much easier prey elsewhere. Attacking a haven is basically giving up everything you have, including your life.”
“Good thing I don’t intend anything of that sort. So, you think they’ll accommodate us.”
“Maybe. Some will let you work in exchange. Always things that need doing here. On the other hand, if you’re willing to give up the tatoun, I think that would be compensation enough.”
“I guess we’ll see when we arrive.”
“Just be sure to keep your hands well away from those weapons. This is Hell. They won’t give you the benefit of the doubt.”
“I appreciate the warning. I don’t tend to approach people with weapons drawn, in any case.”
“That’s a bad habit. Approaching people with weapons drawn is the smarter decision to make in Hell.”
“Unless approaching a haven.”
“Exactly.”
“And what do people who can’t afford a haven do?”
“They rot away. Get eaten by Feasters. Used as slaves. Or they’re caught and made to work in the mines. Some say there are hidden utopias here. Even better than havens. But these are mostly rumors.”
“And no one interested in escaping.”
“We accept our lot. And you should too. Besides, if you’re as dangerous as you say you are, you’ll thrive in Hell.”
We opted to take a break until night fell, and Crust was able to point out a star in the sky that she believed was the sign of a haven. We were able to make it there within a couple of hours on the tatoun’s back. And we knew we’d arrived when a trio of figures approached us. They attempted to approach sneakily, perhaps assuming I wouldn’t be able to make them out in the covert darkness, but that was something I, fortunately, did not struggle with too much. It appeared it was also an advantage in a land dominated by kobolds.
“What the hell are you?” one of the three spoke. Two seemed to be kobolds themselves. The third was much larger, with a head not unlike a crocodile, and a quadrupedal lower body.
“Qhimphal. I’m looking for food, drink, and a place to rest.”
“Throw down your weapons, and we’ll allow you to enter. Whether you get what you came for will be up to the haven’s master.”
“As you wish.” I tossed down spear and machete. I knew how to use neither, so the prospect of being weaponless did not bother me.
Though Crust had said these guardians were strong, and surely they were strong enough to beat back an attack from Feasters, so confidence was probably something that should be quelled in their presence.
“Dismount. You can lead the tatoun on foot.”
“Will you allow my friend to remain atop? She’s not in any condition to walk.”
One of the trio gazed up at her. Without me to hold her balance, she was mostly laying down on the tatoun.
“Don’t worry. I know how to behave myself,” she managed.
“Good. Come along, now.”
“What do you think are my odds of not getting kicked out?”
“This is a haven, qhimphal. People don’t run havens to be cruel and lord power over others. We’re the only beacon of civility in Hell. If you make yourself useful, remain respectful, and cause no trouble, you’ll have nothing to worry about.”
“Well. Certainly less to worry about, if nothing else.”