Kiss of Death - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Beacons of light and understanding blazed brightly in Katiael Ruaavaintae's mind as he rested. Minds upon minds met and mingled. Most stayed in small, community-sized groups. Some traveled between, passing news far more quickly than even the fastest runner could manage. That it was all lost to him simply made Katiael's loneliness more acute, driving another nail into the coffin that was his exile. He could sense curiosity from most, they sensed the physical distance between himself and them. They knew he was in human lands, a lone mind lost and afraid.

A wave of representatives from every community sought him out, asking for knowledge. They hadn't felt him travel, weren't able to mark his progress. He denied them nothing, he was simply too tired. Most expressed pity about his situation as they left. They were the wood elves, his own people. Some expressed disgust, that a community could simply exile a member for such an outrageous. They asked, demanded, that he come live with them, the high elves, ever practical and forgiving. Most asked him to return to them, offered to take him in.

Katiael turned them all down. He was exiled, and he had to respect the conditions, even if he didn't think them fair. 'Leave your people's lands'. He would travel south, he told them, and seek out other elven communities. The high elves backed off, respecting his decision, but letting him know the offer still stood.

Moments later, one of many minds that had recently fallen asleep sent out a beacon of terror, followed by a second, and then a third. They became the center of attention, and the community was soon flooded with activity.

Katiael gave a mental sigh, grateful for the distraction. He couldn't take another moment of their pity. He still had his pride, after all. His peace would not last, however. Worried minds sought him out, and soon he too understood.

---

Erika awoke slowly to a warm bed and better company than she'd been expecting. The half-elven girl, Sivia, placed a slow, tender kiss on Erika's lips. "It's about time you woke up. Sleep well?"

"Very," Erika said around a yawn. Sivia rolled away with a grin.

"I took the liberty of ordering some breakfast," Sivia said as she stood, "But I've eaten already. I was going to go check on Solaliki, but I didn't want you to wake up to an empty room."

"Thanks for the consideration," Erika replied softly. "Where's Katiael?"

Sivia shrugged. "He left shortly after I awoke. He does that sometimes... vanishing for a morning when he wants to think about something. I assume Solaliki will be able to spot him, wherever he is. She can generally find him, even when he'd rather not be found."

"Which is why you're going to check on Solaliki?" Erika asked with a smirk.

"We'll probably be moving on today," Sivia said with a shrug. "We're traveling south."

Erika frowned. "Why so soon? You've only just arrived in Soll. I still don't know why you're traveling at all."

"I'll have to let Katiael tell you his reasons," Sivia said, her thin lips curling upward into a smile, "But Solaliki and myself decided to go with him, perhaps on a whim. I don't think he should be alone right now, and that's the most you'll pry from my lips on the subject. I should go make sure Solaliki's recovered from all that wine she drank last night."

With a blown kiss and the slightest toss of her head, Sivia stepped out, closing the door behind her with only the tiniest of squeaks from the hinges. Erika stood slowly and deliberately. Her gaze fell upon breakfast, which elicited a smile from her lips. She bathed quickly, and pulled on her inner robes before stepping out onto the room's small balcony to take her meal.

Though she had originally complained about her room, being on the west side overlooking the street wasn't exactly conductive to waking up. The view did allow her to gauge the time based on the length of the building's shadow. Erika cursed softly, the morning was half gone. "How much wine did I drink last night?"

"I couldn't say," a soft voice said from above, "Thanks to your kind offer to let us share your room, I got to rest for most of the night."

Erika started, and craned her neck to look up past the roof's thick wooden facade. "Katiael, what are you doing up there?"

"Watching the skies to the northwest," he replied emotionlessly, his body still not revealed to Erika's probing eyes.

"Might I inquire as to why?" she asked in response, trying to lean back far enough to catch a glimpse of the elf without pitching over the balcony's railing in the process.

"Watching for the dragon," came his reply. Erika's eyebrow raised as she wondered if he was serious. "More specifically," he added, "I was watching for it until dawn. Right now, I'm watching to see if it's going to fly again. I am trying to figure out the most logical place for a dragon to lair in the area. And waiting for everyone to wake up so that I can tell you what was passed on to me last night."

Erika put down the piece of bread she'd been chewing, her appetite had vanished and the food she had eaten felt like a pile of frozen gravel. "By Kedali's well-worn boots! You're serious, aren't you?"

"Deadly serious," Katiael said softly. "The problem is, I don't know what subspecies the dragon belongs to. I've been trying to narrow it down since I first spotted it. I thought it must be a white or a silver at first," he said, leaning over the edge of the roof to look at Erika. She bit her lip as he tumbled over the side, his hands tightly gripped. The elf completely trusted in his own strength and agility, she realized, or perhaps he was simply insane.

"White or Silver, because the mountains to the northwest are icy and cold year round, which is advantageous for both species. But the dragon I saw was far too dark. I doubt very much that it's a black, they're not really fond of cold weather, and the nearest moor is almost two hundred and fifty miles south of here."

"So what then?" Erika asked softly, "Blue? Red? Brown? Or one of the goodly dragons?"

Katiael shook his head. "The sun's to the south. I wish I could say it was a metallic. If it was, I'd leave it alone, but my gut says it's one of the chromats. It didn't shimmer in the light. It seemed almost ablative, in fact."

"And we can strike brown dragons from the list completely," Erika reasoned quietly. They have no wings, and can't fly. So where's that leave us? Blue or Red?"

"Just Red or Green, I think. Blues are loath to leave the desert. They prefer sedentary lifestyles under the sand. Wait for something to come by, eat it. One of them would have to be insane to even look at a mountain of anything other than sand."

"Well," Erika whispered to herself, "Red or Green? This is not good."

"Worse than you imagine, I think." Katiael responded. "I'm an elf. My eyesight is keen, though dragon eyes are keener still. At the very best, he has seen Soll and it's defenses, and will be in a cautious mood. At the worst? He saw me watching, and will be on guard."

"Dun Adranys can hold, though, right? Surely seventy soldiers..."

"Your castle is a death-trap," Katiael hissed, "It's made of wood. If the dragon is a Red, those walls will last about four seconds."

"... and a Green is too vicious to let itself be stopped for long by a wall of wood. So what are our options?"

"Well, I think we've got three," the elf said with a shrug. "First, we stay here and get eaten."

Erika's face soured, and she swatted lightly at the elf's shoulder. "That's definitely out. How about something more constructive?"

"It's settled then. We'll leave as soon as you're ready and I've told the others."

"You mean to flee?"

"Hardly," Katiael replied. "Though it is an option I didn't consider. I mean to talk and fight, if it comes to that. If the dragon is a Green, as I suspect it is, I've put this town in danger. There is nothing a Green Dragon likes eating more than an elf. I just hope he's not hungry."

---

A set of three wicked, four inch claws dug deeply into the bark of an elm, eliciting a hiss of displeasure from their owner. This cavern was so drastically different from the ones she knew, and yet, the dragon doubted she could find her way back. The light from the sky-fire was blinding, and painful enough to drive her from the sky early in the morning.

At least the strange mushrooms offered her some relief from the glare. Squinting from the shade, the dragon could only wait until her eyesight adjusted or darkness returned.

"Bahamut, I beg of you," The dragon, Molvayas, whispered into the wind, "forgive me for my trespass! Had only I known the terror of this place, I would have left it undisturbed!"

Too late for regrets, the dragon squeezed her eyes closed to ward off the tears she knew were forming. A mixture of unidentifiable chemicals, dragon's tears were fluid only as long as they remained on the dragon's eyes. A protection against the vilest of blinding airborne poisons and acids. Most dragons were loath to spend their tears unless the situation was desperate.

Molvayas hissed softly as her stomach rumbled. She been eating sparingly over the past few months. Food just seemed more scarce the higher she had climbed through the tunnels. And even this strange cavern's mushroom grove was hard and unpalatable.

Which wasn't to say that there wasn't an abundance of animal life. She could smell the bats and the beasts, yet nearly blinded even with the comfort of shade-trees, none had yet been stupid enough to wander into the dragon's jaws. A pity, but she would persevere, for not even the unholy sphere of fire would be enough to deter the curiosity of Molvayas.

---

Zaath traced his fingers gently along a thin, black line. The necromancer's fingers explored every flourish and twist, though his attention was held elsewhere. Cold, dispassionate blue orbs stared intently into Miranda's own eyes. He watched her expression, ever the predator.

"Your war god has good taste," Zaath hissed, the tone both complimentary and derisive. "At least when it comes to tattoos and women."

His tone of voice should have set off warning bells in Miranda's mind, yet the response he had expected from her came regardless. "You should not speak badly of Lorash, Zaath. You, above all, should respect his work."

True to his nature, Zaath's slap came fast and hard, knocking the priestess sprawling against the wizard's night-stand. "Respect?" he growled, his voice dripping annoyance. "My tower was not built on respect, human. This is a place of contempt and apathy. My creations demean both death and life, just as your presence here demeans me. Your god has no hold here, and your order knows it."

Miranda wiped the slightest trickle of blood from her lips. She leaned heavily against Zaath's bed, totally unconcerned about her own nudity. She remained quiet as the necromancer's icy blue eyes bored into her soul, trying to calm raging emotions. This was a side of Zaath she hadn't yet encountered.

"If that's the way you feel, my lord," she said quietly, as soon as she found her voice, "Why not simply kill us and be done with it?"

"You mean to say 'why bother to humor our order and agree to let you come'?" Zaath replied, his tone mocking. "My reasons are mine alone, Miranda. They are not for you to fathom. I was advised to let you come, and I have never doubted the wisdom of my advisor."

The necromancer crouched beside his priestess, cupping her head in his hands. "You regret coming, I see. Do not bring up the issue of respect with me again, Miranda."

"As you wish, lord Zaath," came Miranda's quiet reply.

"Indeed," Zaath whispered, his lips brushing lightly against Miranda's ear. "As I wish. Until you die or I release you, now that you've agreed to stay." The wizard pulled away, his face an emotionless mask, yet Miranda thought she saw a trace of pity in his malevolent blue eyes. "Much as I would like to remain and drive my point home, as it were," he hissed, "I have other duties to which I must attend, and I believe you need time to adjust to your new situation."

Miranda's arms curled protectively around her bare chest as he turned away. "Do you expect me to call you 'master'?" she spat out vehemently.

"No," came the quiet reply as the necromancer stepped into the hallway, "But I expect you to obey, regardless."

The scraping thud of the thick stone door's closing cut off the young priestess's scream of rage.

---

Tahiss let a soft hiss escape his thin lips. Narrow, yellow eyes glanced about with an emotionless snake-like pupil. Each orb was deeply set into an elongated, wedge-shaped skull. His flesh was bare to the heat and stagnation of the swamp, yet the warmth pleased him. He stood silently... well, perhaps 'stood' was too strong a word for a human torso sprouting about mid-stomach from the trunk of the foot-thick body of a snake.

The Yuan-Ti left his arms crossed over his scaly green chest, his tongue flicking briefly to test the air, the humidity, and take in the surrounding scents. For once, he thought with some trepidation, he was grateful that he lacked a human head. The stench of death hung heavily in the air, mingling unpleasantly with the scent of disease, mold, and mildew.

His eyes narrowed as he once again scanned the faces of his congregation for signs of nausea. His head bobbed in a serpentine nod, and the serpent priest's arms uncrossed slowly. He was ready to begin.

"The hooded lord watch over us," he intoned softly.

The mixed group of Yuan-Ti before him responded as one in the old tongue, their voices hushed in reverence. "May all the heretics fall before his glorious venom."

To the back of the group, one of his assemblage glanced back nervously over her shoulder. The priest noted her cowardice coldly. Fear was a liability in Merrshaulk's eyes.

"In the name of Merrshaulk!" He shouted as loudly as his throat could manage. Almost as one, his congregation flinched and dropped to their knees in the muck. The priest forced himself to believe that it was Merrshaulk, and not the massive, hulking thing behind the congregation that sent tremors of fear through their legs and brought them down in silence.

His leader, the High Priest of his church, had stumbled upon the creature some ten years past. Declaring it a sign of their god's glory, the High Priest Shalik had nonetheless made sure that he sent only the most junior members of the congregation, once every season change, to try to wake the great serpent and secure Merrshaulk's blessing.

This monster was a marvel of camouflage. It was fully sixty feet long (it had been measured, though Tahiss knew not by who). The body was covered in disgusting fungal growths, slimes, and molds of various kinds (many of which were dangerous, and more than a few had claimed lives of foolish animals in the past). The ridges created by the gigantic monster's scales were almost bark-like. Lying still, asleep, it looked like a massive fallen tree. It's mouth was open, gaping, a cavernous maw filled with teeth that almost seemed to skew in random directions. It was a maw, he knew, that did not hold or tear flesh... it was a maw that mangled and caused the greatest amount of pain possible before death.

This, truly, was a creature the Yuan-Ti could respect. That it's body looked very much like Tahiss himself was immaterial.

The priest drew his scimitar from the muck, leveling it at the woman he had picked out earlier. "You!" he yelled, drawing a fearful gasp from her. "You will administer the sacrifice!"

The pureblood's eyes widened, and she dipped her head into a bow. The priest forced himself to remain passive, not to hint that this task might not be the honor she believed it was. Somnolent though he had always heard the beast was upon waking, it had not stopped the monster from devouring two full groups of worshippers. They were unfaithful to Merrshaulk, according to Shalik. Tahiss did not feel it wise to disagree, even though one of those devoured, the only member of the clergy taken, had been his sister.

She had always been the slowest of the surviving members of his clutch. He bore her no sympathy, though he was careful to avoid her fate.

The woman he had chosen to deliver the offering strode forward confidently, pushing a thick-bodied orc before her. Neither bound nor dominated mentally, the sacrifice was nonetheless as weak as a kitten. Poison flowed through the orc's veins, debilitating him and dulling his wits.

The pureblood gave him a final shove, and took a step backwards as the sacrifice stumbled forward and lodged itself in the sleeping creature's mouth, blocking the airway with its bulk. The Yuan-ti had learned that orcs made the best sacrifices... the larger the better.

The swamp fell still, and totally silent. Neither bird nor animal made a single noise when the windy deep-throated snores that constantly filled the air with their bass rumble, like soft distant thunder, came to an end.

The priest did not fail to note the creature's great eyes had opened, the same sickly green as the surrounding flesh were beginning to focus. With a great hacking cough, the beast spat the orc forward, clearing it's airway and leaving the orc's face and trunk dangling just outside the great serpent's jaws.

The orc screamed pitifully in terror as the worm rose, great jaws closing tight about the struggling sacrifice, perforating it with teeth the size and shape of scimitars. Blood spattered Tahiss's awestruck congregation as the monster's jaws snapped open just long enough for it to swallow the piteous remains of the orc whole.

Ancient and keenly-intelligent eyes that had seen the birth and death of many centuries studied Tahiss and his congregation with boredom and, perhaps, a degree of annoyance as well. A low, warning hiss issued from the beast's mouth, and the assembled Yuan-Ti waited with baited breath. Tahiss sighed audibly when it made no move to attack.

"Oh, great one..." he began, ready to beseech the beast for a blessing from his god.

"SILENCE!" The great serpent bellowed, sinister dark eyes flashing with anger. It continued loudly in a gutteral, sickly voice like a gale-force wind. "Why are you so intent on DISTURBING my repose?"

Tahiss's mouth dropped, an expressing of gaping wonder crossing his features. Never before had the beast spoken, never before had any priest been so honored.

"M... My lord," The priest began, bowing low even as his congregation prostrated themselves in supplication. "We seek your blessing, oh great one. For surely you are a representative of Merrshaulk."

"Merr-ssshaulk," The beast hissed, it's eyes flowing away from the priest as if in thought. Tahiss was just about to resume breathing when the twin olive orbs snapped back to gaze at his own. Gears turned in the great monster's head. For though it was wise with age, and brilliant by the standard of humans, it's mind was nothing compared to those of most dragons or even the Yuan-Ti priest who stood bravely before it.

"Who?" it demanded loudly, it's voice sending noticeable tremors through the water and earth in which it lay.

"Mer... Mershaulk?" The Yuan-Ti began with shock, "He is the god of..."

"Not your god, IDIOT!" The serpent chastised, one over-large claw coming down as if to pull it's great bulk forward, crushing the follower who had delivered the sacrifice beneath the mud. The foot lifted away, and not so much as a bubble escaped the woman's tomb. The congregation sat silent in shock, so swift had been her death. "Who is your High Priest?"

"Shalik is the head of my order!" Tahiss screeched, bowing low until his body rested in the mud. "Great lord, please... we did not mean to disturb you. We will go, and take news of your displeasure to..."

"You will bring Shalik to me," The monster growled, it's eyes blazing with demonic fury. "Do it, and I may resist the temptation to consume you all."

"Yes lord!" the Yuan-Ti shrieked, terror overcoming his piety at last. Tahiss scrambled away as fast as he could manage, but did not miss the sickening sounds coming from behind him. His congregation had only lost one to the beast's rage, but it lost far more to it's hunger as they tried to flee. By Mershaulk, the worm was fast!

To be continued...

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