Hardly any light at all had managed to break through the lush green canopy outside and even less illumination had seeped through the lightly dirt-caked window. In order to remedy the lack of light, Magdalene had conjured a small glowing orb that floated throughout the guest room the two young ladies shared. Aridean was busy at work sharpening bladed edge to her massive battle axe while Magdalene sat upon a bed reading from her old bible.
It was already the following morning of the group’s arrival in the lizarian town of Miahnn’uli. Despite the comforts of familiar civilization in the form of the modest inn that Aridean and her companions had found, the minotaur observed the young half-elf yawning and stretching upon the bed. It was as she was waking up that Aridean discovered Magdalene already awake; apparently the sounds of the swamp just beyond their guest room walls had been too much for her to sleep comfortably. Unable to help, Aridean had simply kept quiet while thinking to herself that the croak of toads and splashing of water was preferable to the snoring and movement she had grown accustomed to back in the barracks of Stonehaven.
Though I suppose I don’t really have to worry about that either since Mikali allows me to stay with him now… Well, before meeting us, I guess Maggie did have a room all to herself to sleep in. I guess she’s just not use to it yet, Aridean silently considered as she lifted her axe up to inspect her handiwork. The polished, metal surface of the axe head, engraved with what appeared to be a blazing sun scorching the earth below, reflected her fuzzy visage back at her whereupon a small, satisfied smile formed upon her lips. With a relieved sigh, the minotaur returned the large weapon to its holster before standing from her seat. Magdalene’s head was slowly bobbing up and down with eyelids that struggled to keep open.
“Maggie, do you want to lie down for a while? Vlad and I can come back for you after you’ve had some time to rest. I’m not sure what we might discuss with the high shaman today, but I doubt we’ll be gone long,” Aridean began to ask softly. Magdalene, quick as a fox, jumped from her place upon the bed and onto the floor where her shoes clapped upon the wooden surface.
Magdalene, dressed in her usual attire of a light blue skirt and white button-down shirt, took a moment to breathe deeply. The young girl rubbed sleep from her slightly red eyes as she attempted to hide another tired yawn. Aridean watched, feeling a bit awkward and uncertain, as her half-elven companion stretched her arms and back before carefully returning her bible to her pack resting upon the bed. With a sort of determination, or perhaps crankiness, in her eyes, Magdalene turned back to the minotaur towering over her and crossed her arms over her chest, “I’m not some little kid, Ari! I’m good, I was just waiting for you to say, ‘let’s go’.”
At the young girl’s insistence, Aridean merely let loose a short sigh as she shook her head. Magdalene rolled her eyes before moving over to the small table in the two’s guest room and collecting the bowls and utensils that had been used for their breakfast provided by the innkeeper. As the half-elf collected the used dishes and her own backpack, Aridean strapped the harness carrying the Heaven’s Edge to her body and then retrieved her own pack. Together, the two girls exited the guest room, Magdalene’s shoes clicking against the wood and Aridean’s hooves clopping audibly with each step.
As the door to the main room creaked open, Aridean scanned the scene again. Several small tables with chairs surrounding each of them sat in front of a common area that included a nice and clean rug in front of a stone fireplace. Aridean had to pause and question why the inn in the swamp would have a fireplace at all given just how unbearably humid and warm it was outside. To the opposite side of the main room sat the reception desk, and behind that, Nurik Goreskii, the dwarven innkeeper. Aridean also observed Vladimir sitting at a table whilst reading a book, though upon hearing the groan of the door, the man promptly closed his tome and stood from his seat.
“I’ll just go wash these up real quick… maybe splash some water in my face while I’m at it,” Magdalene announced with another short yawn while carrying the dishes from breakfast into the door along the same wall as their guest room that was labeled ‘kitchen’. Nurik had already told the inn’s guests not to worry about the cleaning up, though Aridean likely would have taken care of things had Magdalene not already non-verbally volunteered to do so. As the half-elf disappeared into the kitchen of the inn, Vladimir approached Aridean.
“Good morning, Ms. Gray. I take it you and Ms. Yorre slept well?” Vladimir greeted as he stopped in front of the minotaur. He wore a now mud-free, blue coat and white pants and blue boots; along his right arm was a purple ribbon tied above his elbow. The man managed to offer one of his signature tired, but genuine, smiles to Aridean.
“Good morning, Vlad. I didn’t have too much trouble, though I’m a little worried about Maggie… I don’t know if she slept at all last night. Said there were so many toads and splashes outside,” replied Aridean with a nervous smile of her own. As she spoke, the curve of her lips slowly faded and her attention had been redirected from the man greeting her toward the kitchen door. Something about her concern for Magdalene must have amused Vladimir in some manner as the man let loose a quiet chuckle.
“I see. I will be sure to keep an eye on her as well, just to be sure she does not overexert herself, Ms. Gray,” Vladimir told Aridean after a second to compose himself from his quiet laughter. Upon hearing the man’s announcement, Aridean turned her head back toward Vladimir and her anxious smile slowly resurfaced. The minotaur towering over the human nodded her head in acceptance of the noble’s offer of watching out for Magdalene alongside her.
For only a moment, the front room of the swamplands inn was silent save for the muffled marsh sounds coming from beyond the walls. Aridean’s ear flicked at the sound of stone being hammered and she quickly turned her attention toward the front desk. Behind the desk and seated at a low stool was the dwarven innkeeper; despite her own height, Aridean could only just see her host’s forehead and gray-streaked hair. Nurik sat behind the reception desk upon a low seated stool and had busied himself with chipping away at his marble statuettes again. Having concluded her inspection of the cozy front room, Aridean took a deep breath and made to move toward one of the numerous chairs scattered throughout the space. She immediately halted all motion as she discovered a dramatic change in Vladimir’s expression. Before speaking, Aridean could hear the man in front of her quietly moaning frustratedly.
“Ms. Gray, a moment of your time?” Vladimir finally managed to ask, clearly making an effort to be upfront and direct with Aridean. His smile had faded away and a serious, if anxious, glimmer could be seen in his one visible eye.
“Oh, uhm, sure, Vlad. Was there something on your mind?” Aridean returned, somewhat curious by the nobleman’s sudden need for her attention. Vladimir paused briefly, almost as though Aridean’s mundane response had been far too much for him to handle. Nevertheless, the human took another moment to compose himself and breath deeply. This was the first time Aridean had seen Vladimir flustered in any capacity. Even so, the minotaur provided the reluctantly immortal human with her full attention.
“Indeed… I’ve been considering our discussion yesterday evening. I feel the need to ask… I… I must confess that this is… difficult for me,” Vladimir started with a gentle nod of his head. Aridean observed how the nobleman would pause intermittently as he clearly attempted to gather his thoughts concerning what he needed to say to the minotaur. However, the brief breaks in his speech became more and more drawn out until Vladimir had stopped speaking altogether with his gaze unable to meet Aridean’s.
“V-Vlad?” Aridean called out gently. Something about Vladimir’s unusual hesitancy had started to build a growing feeling of uncertainty in Aridean as well. Before he lifted his head up to lock eyes with the minotaur standing over him, Vladimir anxiously swallowed whatever unease had been choking him previously.
“I must confirm with you, Ms. Gray… what you said yesterday evening… that…” Vladimir again started to speak, his voice trailing off once more as his visible eye fell to the floor at his boots. Aridean watched as the man both bit his lip and his left hand was brought up to hold tight to the purple ribbon tied around his right arm. Although she was uncertain as to what it was Vladimir was trying to ask of her, Aridean felt a pang of sorrow bouncing all throughout her chest simply seeing the unnerved expression upon Vladimir’s partially covered face. With a shake of his head, the man lifted his gaze and offered a tired smile, “I-I apologize. Perhaps I’m being too presumptuous here.”
What I said yesterday? What is he talking about… was it… Oh! He must be referring to when we were discussing his immortality while Maggie was in the bath, Aridean slowly began to mentally review. After the slight awe of realization had subsided, her eyes quickly scanned over the human standing before her. Even Aridean was shocked with herself as she silently looked Vladimir over.
This human, if one could even refer to him as such any longer, had been the cause of so much pain and so much suffering. The number of families that the man must have torn apart must have been innumerable given he had been assisting a demon for a full century. Gifted with the curse of immortality, Vladimir had taken away the closest thing that Aridean had to family. Even so, the minotaur found herself clenching her fists and biting her lip. Although a burning rage had reignited in her heart at the memory of the fury she felt stumbling out of the tomb back in Cortonne, she failed to bring herself to fully hate or despise Vladimir in this moment as the human had confessed to and displayed an alarming amount of guilt and regret over his past. The question he had asked back then echoed in the back of her mind: ‘What would you do if the pain you caused could be undone?’ Just thinking about the question sent her back to that night in Thellia where the entire village burned in a brilliant inferno and her own father, clad in his armor, lay in crimson pool at her hooves. As Aridean struggled to collect herself, she inhaled deeply before swallowing through the tightening choked feeling in her throat.
“Vlad, I think I know what you’re trying to ask,” Aridean began to announce after taking a moment to calm her nerves. As she breathed deeply again, Vladimir’s attention focused in on her as his left hand still wrapped its fingers around the purple ribbon the man kept tied around his right arm. There was a brief pause as Aridean attempted to push the memories aside. First was the disgusting crunch of bone and ripping of flesh from where Rana defended her, then her own weak and distressed pleas, and finally Vidor’s sorrowful and heartbroken howl slowly faded from her mind. After another few seconds to ensure she was in control again, Aridean continued, “I… I still hate you for what happened back in Cortonne… but… I-I don’t know how, b-but… I said I’ll help you. I-I meant what I said.”
Once again, otherwise silence had fallen over the two as Aridean concluded her affirmation to assistance. Vladimir stared, entirely dumbstruck by the minotaur who only barely managed to keep from letting the overwhelming anxiety and uncertainty from showing upon her fuzzy visage. Aridean’s ear flicked at the sound of the inn’s dwarven host, Nurik, chipping away at one of his small statuettes with a chisel and reciting the lyrics to some dwarven song only loud enough that his voice could just barely be picked up. Beyond that, Vladimir simply looked up to the minotaur towering over him with his one visible eye having gone wide in sheer stunned surprise and his jaw having dropped in a manner unbecoming of his usually dignified countenance. Seconds had begun to feel like hours as Aridean awaited any form of response, the awkward pause left her own heartbeat rattling her entire being with nervous anticipation.
“Ms. Gray? I… I am in your debt, truly I am,” Vladimir finally spoke, voice trembling as the man continued trying to fully process what he was being told. Before he continued to speak, the noble withdrew his left hand from his right arm and bowed deeply to Aridean. As the man’s long, silver ponytail fell over his left shoulder, he spoke again with far more confidence in his tone, “I know not whether redemption is even possible for a cursed being such as myself. But, through your kindness and generosity, I feel that a small flicker of hope has been ignited in my undying heart.”
“V-Vlad, I-I’m glad to hear that,” returned Aridean, feeling somewhat disturbed that not just a human, but a noble was offering her such a gesture. Vladimir held his bow for several seconds longer before rising up once more. The man repositioned himself upon his own feet before his gentle smile spread across his partially covered face once more.
“I understand that you have your own matters that must be attended to and that my needs are secondary to our current assignment, but I swear upon my name and title that I will strive for forgiveness and atonement. It will be nothing more than my utmost pleasure to assist you in any way you see fit, Ms. Gray,” Vladimir vowed. Something about the exchanged seemed so unreal or impossible to Aridean. She, nothing more than an adopted daughter to a shepherd turned rebel soldier, was being offered such a powerful pledge from Vladimir, a nobleman turned demon plaything. Perhaps it was not the first time that the human had offered her such an oath, but this one seemed to carry significantly more weight with Vladimir’s mannerisms. As the wave of hot embarrassment across her fuzzy face faded away, both the man and minotaur turned toward at the sound of the kitchen door creaking open.
“Well, we ready to get going?” Magdalene asked as she approached whilst wiping her hands upon her light blue skirt. Both Aridean and Vladimir nodded in agreement that they were prepared to continue their assignment in Miahnn’uli. As the trio tread across the wooden flooring, shoes clapping quietly and hooves clopping loudly, Nurik rose from his seat behind the front desk. While the strange band of guests deposited the two room keys they had been given during their stay, the dwarven man offered a beaming smile as he stroked his beard.
“Ey, now, don’t you lot go bein’ strangers, ya hear? You lot ever back in Miahnn’uli again, swing by, won’t ya?” Nurik said with a jovial playfulness in his voice. Magdalene and Vladimir nodded their acknowledgement of the dwarf’s offer before heading for the door. Nurik collected the room keys that the group had returned while looking up to Aridean, “It be none me business, but don’t go gettin’ yerself into any trouble, lass.”
“Oh, o-of course. Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Goreskii,” Aridean replied with a small, somewhat nervous smile of her own. The dwarven innkeeper surveyed the minotaur that turned and made for the door. As the door closed behind his tall, horned and furred customer, Nurik returned the keys to his rack before lowering himself down upon his work stool again.
“The craftsmanship of that blade that lass carries… Somethin’ glorious it were,” the dwarf muttered to himself as he retrieved his tools and statuette. Alone again, Nurik inspected the carved artwork he held before getting back to work. The dwarf began to hum quietly to himself as the rhythmic striking of his chisel on the carved figurine rang all throughout his inn.
Outside of the peculiarly located inn, the team gathered by their wagon. The unfamiliar squawk of birds in the trees overhead echoed throughout the scene while Aridean was quick to collect for the duo of horses some hay that had been stored under a small shelter connected to the inn. Magdalene had already climbed into the back of the wagon, the old wood creaking quietly under the young girl’s feet, and was rifling through the supplies that the group had brought on their journey into the swamp while Vladimir leaned against the side of the wooden vehicle. The nobleman held a small book in his hand and his one visible eye was hastily moving along the pages as he processed the text at an alarming speed. As Aridean finished providing both food and water for the team’s trusty steeds, she stood up straight and breathed deeply. Both her human and half-elven companion, having noticed she was finished with her duties, dropped what it was they were doing and looked to the minotaur.
“So, that shaman lady said to meet her where again?” Magdalene asked, leaning over the rail to the wagon. Aridean took a few steps closer to her companions whilst wiping her hands clean upon her jeans. With one of his usual smiles spread across his lips, Vladimir closed his book with a satisfying thump before depositing it into the wagon where Magdalene sat.
“The spirit hut at the center of the town; it is where many of the lizarian traditions are observed and is also the residence of the town shaman,” answered the nobleman with a gentle and knowing tone. Aridean and Magdalene each turned to survey the unfamiliar surroundings. The same as the day prior, most of the homes and local structures had been built of hardened mud walls that fit between large roots to trees that almost seem to be trying to uproot themselves and relocate to another area. From the group’s position in front of the inn, the only structure in all of Miahnn’uli that appeared built in a manner familiar to the team, nothing at all seemed to differentiate the local buildings in any meaningful way. Curtained drapes hung in the doorways that fed into a darkened chamber beneath the tree of which each hut had been built into and there were no windows to any of the structures that Aridean and Magdalene could see. The two girls glanced to one another in silent, joint confusion.
“Do you happen to know which hut that might be, Vlad?” Aridean asked, somewhat anxious with her ears drooping slightly. The human man, his signature kind but tired smile still playing upon his lips, turned to inspect the odd town that sat half-submerged in dark, muddy waters. Aridean and Magdalene both took note of the extended length of time that Vladimir had remained silent. After an awkwardly long pause, Magdalene drew in a breath to speak her mind but stopped as Vladimir turned back to both her and the minotaur. The nobleman’s usual smile had faded as he non-verbally indicated to the two girls he accompanied that his scan of the area was complete and likely fruitless. With a disappointed sigh, the human shook his head where the long bangs over his left eye and the long, silver ponytail behind him were gently whipped back and forth.
“It has been over one hundred years since I last visited Miahnn’uli. Things are not quite the same as they were a century prior, I’m afraid. Perhaps I’ll recognize it when we get a bit closer,” announced Vladimir. It was abundantly clear by the tinge of regret and expression upon the man’s face that he was sincerely upset to not be able to assist any further.
“That’s something at least… I don’t know if I like the idea of asking for directions from these hulking reptiles…” Magdalene commented with impatience before planting her hands on the wooden wall to the wagon. In one swift motion, the young girl ejected her legs from the back of the wagon, sending them soaring over the rail. She deftly landed upon the muddied ground far below from where she had been sitting; the mud beneath her shoes squished loudly as the half-elf landed on the ground.
“Let’s just keep an eye out… maybe the high shaman will be outside her hut expecting us,” Aridean suggested. Vladimir merely nodded his agreement with the plan to simply stroll through the lizarian town of Miahnn’uli where Magdalene grunted frustratedly as she rolled her eyes. Having come to an unspoken agreement, the trio began to move away from the stables where the horses had been left to rest. The group’s trusted steeds had not even registered that their charges had departed as they continued to munch on the provided dried hay.
Minotaur hooves and human shoes marched along the muddied trail that still bore their wagon’s tire tracks from the previous evening. Cold, marshy soil squished loudly with every step along the pathway, prompting some of the absorbed moisture that had seeped into the ground to jump up onto the travelers’ covered feet and ankles. Many buzzing insects had already swarmed around the trio as they continued into the village; Magdalene had begun to groan and swat her hands at the flying nuisances as they circled her head. Out in the distance, the sounds of something splashing into the swamp waters prompted Aridean’s ears to flick anxiously as her nerves were already starting to bother her concerning the discussion she was about to have with the high shaman.
From the uncomfortably humid air and the ground that seemed to try to pull her back into it every time she went to lift a hoof, Aridean had begun to pant quietly as she and her companions reached Miahnn’uli proper. The mud trail had broken off into smaller pathways that led into shallow pools of murky water; the darkened liquid that had flooded the path was in constant motion from countless ripples moving along the surface. Looking up from the path, the minotaur and her companions found that the lizarian natives trudged through the shallower portions of the marsh as though it were normal to walk along ground that had been flooded in ankle-high water.
“Seriously? Ugh, let’s just get this over with…” Magdalene grumbled as she started to make for the flooded road. The young girl seemed to shiver as she stepped into the water, grumbling annoyedly to herself as she desperately sought to keep the hem of her skirt from becoming soaked in the muddied pool. Aridean and Vladimir shared a quick glance before the latter moved to join their half-elven companion. Aridean followed closely and noted that the instant his boot had sunk beneath the surface of the water, Vladimir had also let out his own expression of dissatisfaction with the lizarian infrastructure, or rather the lack thereof, by groaning quietly. All Aridean could think to do was sigh at her group’s struggle yet did have to mentally remark that she was going to have a difficult time getting the mud out of her pants legs.
Continuing on into the lizardfolk village, Aridean’s eyes had begun to wander as the trio waded through the shallow and cool water. Ripples and waves licked at her ankles, just above her hooves, soaking both fur and pants with. The sounds of the water splashing all around was loud and difficult to ignore, though any other noise one might pick up on would simply be the buzz of the insects circling their head. Having blocked out the pesky flies surrounding her, Aridean began to scan the swamp town that she now found herself trudging through.
Each and every single lizarian structure had been built into the roots of the massive trees scattered throughout the swamp. Hardened mud had been used to link massive tree roots that held the tree itself up like stilts above the shallower portion of the swamp. There were several circular openings into the hardened mud walls that were all around Aridean’s eye level; she supposed these to be the closest thing that the lizarians had to windows. Entryways into the mud-caked residences had been covered with a curtain of fur hide that each hung low enough in the entrance that it barred to hover just above the rippling waters. Aridean had not picked upon it, but her ear twitched in Magdalene’s direction as the young half-elven girl seemed to begrudgingly grumble something about the mud walls reminding her of the stone walls back in Stonehaven.
As the group continued through the town, Aridean observed that many of the locals moving about had begun to turn and silently observe as the trio of scaleless travelers wandered through the marsh. Aridean swallowed anxiously as she noted tongues flicking from mouths that lay beneath narrowed eyes. Many of the locals appeared to be in the middle of some form of work, making their pause to stare down the minotaur, human, and half-elf all the more nerve-wracking. Scaled hands, some gloved and other not, had halted collecting wood or gutting fish or sharpening well-worn bladed weapons simply to watch in otherwise silence as the new arrivals passed them by. It was only as one of the lizardmen hissed in the team’s direction that Magdalene moved to walk nearer to Aridean, the murky water around her ankles splashing up onto her light blue dress as she nearly slipped into a small dip beneath the water in the path.
Trying their utmost to simply ignore the open disdain for their mere presence in Miahnn’uli, the waded through the shallow mire for several minutes. All the while, Aridean’s anxious eyes had been darting from left to right as she desperately pleaded internally that Vladimir recall the way to the shaman’s hut. The number of locals watching her and her companions seemed to grow in number, as did the low growling and aggravated hissing sounds that they emitted when the travelers got too near. Just as Aridean was catching herself from having slipped on some loose mud, Vladimir hummed aloud.
“This is… starting to appear somewhat familiar to me… hmm,” the human stated. With a dignified, yet serious, expression upon his features, Vladimir surveyed the group’s surroundings meticulously. As the man hummed quietly to himself, Magdalene had begun to wring the filthy water from her skirt. Excess swamp water dropped from the light blue fabric like a gentle shower into the pool at the group’s feet. Once the young girl had finished squeezing the abundant moisture that had collected in her skirt, Vladimir let loose an excited- sounding gasp, “Ah-ha! I remember now! The shaman’s hut is a larger hut that is not built out of the roots of the trees here. It shouldn’t be much further, if memory serves correctly; do keep your eyes peeled for a skull totem pole, however.”
With a… rather grim landmark to be on the lookout for, that will make things much easier. Also, the shaman’s hut won’t be built into tree roots? Seems a bit odd given the rest of this place, Aridean thought to herself as the trio began moving through the pooled swamp water once more. Even still, the audible sounds of the local’s grievances with their presence had made its way to Aridean’s ears. The closer they seemed to get to their goal, the more the minotaur felt her nerves being eaten away. Not only had the lizarians all around her already exacerbated her debilitating social anxiety, but more even stressful was the thought of having to act an ambassador to the high shaman. Even should the shaman be in a more hospitable mood, this would still be the first time Aridean had ever acted a diplomat.
As the minotaur groaned quietly at the uncomfortable thought of having come all this way simply to embarrass herself and screw up her assignment, she and her companions passed by another one of the mud-tree root huts. Having entered into what must be the center of Miahnn’uli, the trio of travelers paused at the sight that stood in the middle of a small clearing within the swamp. Surrounded by multiple totems comprised of various game skulls was a chiseled stone, circular temple-like structure that had been erected upon a small isle within the shallow waters. Columns and engravings had been cut and smoothed out with the utmost care; figures that depicted the lizarian natives worshiping their deities lined the walls outside the building. Clean and clear water was being shot up through a fountain-like spout that had been affixed to the center of the roof, droplets glistening brilliantly in the sunlight that managed to break through the lush canopy ceiling. Even more curtains of water flowed down the walls and into the swamp that surrounded the temple.
“They call that a hut? And you mean to tell us that you couldn’t remember this… Seriously?” Magdalene commented as she gawked at the impressive architecture that left the group somewhat awe-struck. After a moment to collect himself, Vladimir merely cleared his throat. Both half-elf and minotaur looked to the man only to be met with a polite smile and a shrug of his shoulders. Aridean’s ear flicked at the sound of her young half-elven companion grunting her frustration, though her attention had been refocused on the temple ahead. Standing just outside the temple entrance was a single male lizarian; he carried a large broadsword and had visibly locked his sights upon Aridean. Uncertain as to whether or not she were breaking some sort of lizarian tradition again, the minotaur simply stared back awkwardly while waiting for the lizardman to guide her and her fellow travelers to the high shaman. She felt a wave of unease settle over her, however, at the sight of the reptilian male approaching with his blade at the ready.
“Nii’ra, si’putath!” shouted a familiar-sounding voice from somewhere nearby. At the sound of the foreign command, the lizarian that had been approaching the group halted his advance and turned back to the temple whilst growling aggressively. Having followed the scaled warrior’s gaze, Aridean found that the high shaman now stood within the doorway to the lizarian temple. Despite the distance, it was clear that the high shaman was already visually inspecting her guests in otherwise silence. The waiting for the female lizard folk had by itself quickly became a stressful and uncomfortable trial for the minotaur. Just as the high shaman concluded her silent inspection, she let loose a quiet growl, “So you come, warm bloods… Nallahk zhi tashni… Enter.”
Aridean glanced between her two companions, Magdalene having returned a look of unease about the situation. Vladimir, however, had cupped his chin between a thumb and finger while looking at the lizarian male that merely growled in frustration before wandering away from the temple. As the warrior that had been approaching the group departed and entered into a different hut, the high shaman turned and returned to the inside of the temple. With an anxious sigh, Aridean lifted one of her hooves, water droplets falling from her soaked pants and fur, and began to make her way to the entrance of the magnificent architecture with both Magdalene and Vladimir following closely behind her.
“I believe that Nii’ra was the very same warrior to have assaulted you yesterday, Ms. Gray,” Vladimir stated as the group reached the temple entrance. There was a stone platform rising from beneath the swamp waters that pooled around the structure, though it had still been visibly drenched as the group’s approach had sent waves rippling through the water over the rough surface.
“What? You think he was looking for a rematch?” Magdalene proposed while climbing up the stone platform. Seeing the young girl struggle, if even just slightly, when trying to lift herself from the water, Aridean had offered a hand for support without thinking. For but a brief moment, the minotaur worried that the gesture may insult the usually headstrong and independent half-elven girl, though her worry had transformed into surprise by the light squeeze of Magdalene’s fingers wrapping around her furred palm. Having pulled the girl up, Aridean turned to Vladimir and offered the same aid which was promptly accepted and repaid with a smile and a nod of acknowledgement.
“That would most likely be the reason that he may have been here waiting for us to appear,” Vladimir answered as the trio entered the temple.
“I could smell the arrogance radiating off of that skink. No doubt our little clash yesterday damaged his fragile ego,” Vici’s voice seemed to echo from somewhere nearby. Somewhat startled by the spirit’s input on the subject, Aridean involuntarily let out a quiet and alarmed gasp. Both of her companions had stopped in their tracks as the minotaur glanced around the darkened hallway that the group found themselves in. No matter where her eyes may have been cast, Aridean could not find the familiar, if intimidating, form that now ‘dwelled within her heart’. Swallowing her anxiety as Vici’s amused laugh rang in her ears, Aridean shook her head before continuing forward as though nothing had happened.
Hooves clopping and shoes clicking upon stone had echoed all throughout the single hallway as the group progressed. Light shone in from the entrance and the light of fire could be seen at the other end as the hallway opened into a chamber of some sort. As Aridean and her companions reached the end of the near pitch-black corridor of wet stone, they came upon a peculiar room within the temple. At the center of the room was a large bonfire pit; massive flames and black smoke billowed up toward the ceiling where the fumes were funneled out of the chamber via a duct of sorts. Behind the bonfire was a massive, carved altar which had been topped with thin, curved stone pylons that stretched over the altar. These two pylons ended over the middle of the altar while supporting a massive animal’s skull, one far larger than anything Aridean had ever seen.
Just before the altar, with hands raised as though praying to the spirit of whatever animal the skull once belonged to, was the high shaman. She was dressed similarly to the other locals in that she wore a leather hide loincloth around her waist and thin straps around her chest. Unlike her fellow residents of the swamp, however, small animal bones and fragments had been sewn into the tribal clothing. After a moment to conclude her supposed prayer, the high shaman turned to face the group of travelers. Aridean could feel her brows rising with surprise to find that the high shaman had covered her scaled features with another, albeit smaller, animal skull. Her sharp eyes scanned her guests before she approached the bonfire that separated her from the group.
“Warm bloods, sit before ancestral firepit,” the high shaman began to command. As she took a seat of her one, the female lizard folk got down upon her knees with the front of her toes firmly on the rough stone floor for support. As she rested her hands in her lap, her guests had followed their hostess’s instructions and sat opposite the shaman. Having observed the group display obedience, the high shaman began to speak further, “I am Sha’loa ekrah Detrok, high shaman and speaker for warriors of swamp in place of warchief. Speak business in swamp, outsiders.”
“Strange… the high shaman holds considerable authority among their people, but to be speaking for the warchief is unexpected…” Vladimir whispered. The human’s observation had not gone unnoticed, however, as the Sha’loa’s eyes fixated upon the nobleman while a deep, rumbling growl resounded throughout the chamber, even overpowering the roar of the bonfire flames.
“Hana, stench of death follows you. Gav’tuu, know you come for your people, speak,” Sha’loa both commented and ordered. Having understood that his voice had no place during the ensuing negotiations, Vladimir chose to keep his mouth shut while also nodding to the high shaman. Aridean, on the other hand, required a moment to simply compose herself before getting down to business with the high shaman. With a deep breath, the minotaur lifted her gaze which had fallen to the mesmerizing bonfire flames and anxiously began to move her lips.
“High shaman, we’ve come to enlist the aid of the lizarian people in the minotaur battle for freedom from unjust persecution and discrimination against the human Empire,” Aridean informed. Throughout her explanation, the high shaman’s piercing gaze, from just beneath the animal skull mask, had remained transfixed upon Aridean. Even as the minotaur concluded her statement, Sha’loa’s eyes had done little more than blink. Again, an annoyed snarling sound began to echo off the stone walls that surrounded the team. The high shaman took a moment to compose herself somewhat, grunting loudly as she shook her head.
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“Only know you say battle against hana Empire; all else mean nothing. You come seeking aid of warriors of swamplands? Ka deimn na pallo,” Sha’loa announced with a hiss. Her tone had been belittling and given what little Aridean knew about the lizarian tongue, she had assumed that the high shaman’s final comment on the matter had not been well-meaning. Narrow and focused eyes shifted between the temple guests as the high shaman silently contemplated on Aridean’s message. Although she had not once taken her gaze off of her guests, the high shaman removed a pouch from the belt wrapped around her waist and from the small bag, pulled a single bone fragment. The remains she had procured were immediately cast into the fire in front of the lizarian female, prompting the flames to dance about the bone as it fell into place among the other fuel. It was only at the sound of the bone cast into the fire cracking that her gaze shifted down to the fire. Curious, all three of the travelers sitting opposite the shaman leaned in to see that the small, white piece of bone had broken in two pieces. Each of their attentions had been immediately returned to Sha’loa due to the low rumbling hum that came from the female’s throat, “But… gav’tuu impress with warrior skill and spirits of swamp grow restless… Fine. Gav’tuu must prove worthy of blades first.”
“Oh… Uhm… of course,” a somewhat flustered Aridean began to reply, not entirely prepared for how smooth the negotiations appeared to be going. Keeping her head directed toward Sha’loa, Aridean shifted her focus over to Magdalene, who looked up to the minotaur with relief shining in her own eyes. Her vision quickly moved over toward Vladimir; a contented smile having crept across his partially veiled face. With a deep breath, Aridean continued, “We would not ask for your warriors’ service without some form of payment. W-what is it you had in mind then?”
“No ‘pay’! Gav’tuu must prove worthy of fighting beside warriors of swamplands. Prove worth; gav’tuu will hunt deimn’la,” snapped Sha’loa. Her initial outburst had prompted all three members of the team to straighten their backs and give the lizard woman their full attention; Aridean’s ears had even perked up straight upon her horned head. However, what had truly given the group pause was the method for securing lizarian cooperation. Time had seemed to come to a near halt as Aridean attempted to process the task laid before her by the high shaman.
Did… did she just say to hunt the deimn’la? She wants… him dead? W-why? Aridean had tried to ask for clarity, though her mouth had initially failed her. During the time that the shaman allowed the group to compose themselves, all that could be heard throughout the room was the crackling of the firepit. Eventually, Aridean managed to swallow the unease that had formed a lump in the back of her throat.
“W-wha—?” the minotaur had started to ask. Instead of waiting for her to finish her question, the high shaman rose from her seat at the firepit. The bones that lined her tribal wear clicked together as she moved over to the altar behind her.
“Bring proof. Once deimn’la is no more, gav’tuu will have warriors,” Sha’loa explained, both clearly and bluntly. Standing before the altar, the female spread her scaled arms out to her sides with palms laid flat upon the rough stone. After only a few seconds, the female seemed to slouch her shoulders. Having her assignment reiterated to her with the condition that she must provide proof of the deed had only given Aridean’s mind further pause to process.
“Y-you just want me to go and kill one of your own?! T-that’s—,” Aridean began to protest after having realized what it was that the high shaman had just ordered of her. Her response to the absurd demand had been immediately cut off by a furious growl. Turning back to her guests, Sha’loa had let loose an aggressive roar of disgust.
“The deimn’la is not one of mine!” the high shaman asserted, her voice carried the same malice and rage as her previous outburst. Even from a distance, the tensed muscles in her body were visible. Just by how quick the high shaman was to turn on her guests, Aridean felt a chill run the length of her spine to the end of her tail despite the hot fire that burned in front of her. Seemingly calming herself, Sha’loa quietly added while hanging her head low, “Gav’tuu will find deimn’la… and put end to my shame.”
“Your--?” Aridean had begun to press further. Her thought had been immediately silenced by another agitated roar.
“Begone, warm bloods! Return in victory or not at all!” ordered Sha’loa while turning her back on her guests. This time, however, the high shaman left the scene and began to travel through a different passage in the temple, leaving the minotaur, human, and half-elf unsupervised in the large, stone chamber. Beyond the crackle and snap of the roaring fire before the group of travelers and the click of the high shaman’s claws upon stone gradually growing quieter, silence had fallen over the room. For a brief period, Aridean merely sat in her position upon her knees while looking to the doorway through which Sha’loa had departed.
Her shame? What is that supposed to mean? the confused minotaur had silently asked herself. She blinked her eyes and could feel her ear flick in the direction of someone climbing to their feet beside her. Turning her head, Magdalene was already up and brushing dust and dirt from off her skirt.
“That… could have gone a lot better…” the young half-elf commented, having broken the awkward silence among the three still within the temple chamber. Vladimir hummed thoughtfully and quietly to himself at the girl’s thought on the negotiations that had just taken place while also rising to his feet as well. Still just trying to process what the group’s assignment was, Aridean had barely managed to move her lips despite her mouth having fallen slightly ajar in sheer astonishment.
“Y-yeah…” Aridean murmured in agreement with Magdalene’s statement. Once the minotaur stood upon her hooves again, the three turned and made for the doorway leading into the corridor that would ultimately see them to the exit of the lizarian temple. Again, an awkward silence had fallen over the trio. Aridean had begun to internally question just what her companions made of the ordeal ahead of them. As the team exited the stone hallway, each had lifted a hand to shield their eyes from what little bright, natural sunlight had managed to filter through the dark green leaves overhead.
“Well then… I suppose we should begin our search for the deimn’la. Unfortunately, I find it unlikely that anyone with information might be willing to direct us toward him,” Vladimir announced as he hopped down from the stone platform that stood before the lizarian temple. His boots crashed down into the cool swamp water with an audible splash. Both Aridean and Magdalene stared at the man as he casually strode away before glancing to one another. After a few paces ahead, Vladimir turned with a curious look upon his face after finding that his companions had not joined him in their quest to find the deimn’la.
“What?! He helped us yesterday and you want to kill him just because that shaman lady told us to?” Magdalene had almost shouted in disbelief by Vladimir’s nonchalance over the matter. Simply listening to the half-elf’s words seemed to put Aridean’s heart in a tight grip; the minotaur felt like she was struggling to breathe, if only slightly, and her heartbeat could be heard in her ears. However, the tension she had experienced at that moment paled in comparison to the wave of dread that crashed over her mind as Vladimir merely sighed and shook his head.
“The lizarian people are a difficult crowd to please, Ms. Yorre. A display of strength is the only means of negotiating with them. I understand that it might not be the most… ethical approach. If it pleases you, Ms. Gray, I will bear the sin when the time comes,” explained Vladimir as he replaced what modest surprise he had previously displayed with grave seriousness painted across his expression. The man had made it clear, with nothing more than the firm look in his one visible eye, that his words spoke truth. As much as they may have disagreed with the methods of the lizarian high shaman, there would be no deterring her from this task.
“Vlad…” Aridean had started to call gently. However, seeing truth in Vladimir’s eye was enough for her to relent on what may indeed prove a fruitless endeavor. With a solemn shake of her head, Aridean dropped down into the swamp waters as well, “I… I guess we don’t have a choice.”
“Ari? You too?” came Magdalene, clearly caught off guard by Aridean’s sudden change in stance. Nevertheless, the half-elven girl dropped into the water that pooled around her shins as well. For a time, Aridean’s mouth moved, yet she could not form any words, at least no coherent words. As the group began to trek their way through Miahnn’uli back to the trail that led into the swamplands, Aridean swallowed the anxious lump that had been choking her.
“I-I don’t like it either, Maggie… but given what we’ve seen since we got here, I don’t think we’ll be able to change the high shaman’s mind,” returned Aridean after having taken the time to compose herself. She could hear an uneasy groan coming from Magdalene who walked somewhat distant from Aridean, more so than she had as the trio had approached the temple. Paying little mind to the half-elf’s unspoken disapproval, Aridean turned to her human companion, “Do you really think that no one will be willing to help us find him, Vlad?”
“I’m afraid it is unlikely. If you were to simply look around, many of the locals are already glaring at us. I do not recommend approaching them unless we’ve accomplished the high shaman’s task,” answered Vladimir just as the group passed through a livelier section of Miahnn’uli. Many scaled forms walked past or glared from a distance, just as Vladimir had mentioned. Few of the lizard folk that could see the group of travelers had continued about their business as though there was nothing out of the ordinary; the majority of the locals expressed some level of dissatisfaction with their guests. Aridean could not help but throw glances at some of the lizarians surrounding her and her companions, though she desperately hoped that none that may have noticed the gesture might consider it a challenge.
Eventually, the trio had managed to return to the muddied trail that would lead toward the entrance of the Wiir Swamplands if walking westward while eastward would return them to the inn. Allowing the group a brief pause to collect themselves, Aridean watched as Magdalene wrung murky water from her skirt while Vladimir stared out into the swamp. With one final look upon Miahnn’uli, Aridean sighed before gesturing for her companions to follow. Both Vladimir and Magdalene moved to keep pace with the minotaur, mud squishing audibly beneath each of their treads. Humidity in the air had already made the walk unpleasant and Aridean found herself panting quietly. Perhaps the uncomfortable atmosphere may have been a factor in the lizarians living in a town that was partially submerged in their swamp.
“To be honest, I was trying to avoid locking eyes with any of them anyway. Well, we don’t have much to go on, but maybe just walking the road out of the swamp might prove helpful to us in meeting with him again. Mr. Goreskii did say that he jumps in to help travelers in need out in the swamp,” Aridean replied between light panting breaths. She took a moment to wiped a hand across her face; the cold water that her fur had collected while leaving Miahnn’uli had been a wonderful boon.
“Oh, yeah, let’s just go jump headfirst into another one of those dragolia weeds…” Magdalene chimed in with a snide tone. As the three walked, Magdalene’s face scrunched up in annoyance at one or more insects that had already begun to buzz around her face.
“I would recommend that even less than attempting discussion with the lizarians here. It was a most unpleasant experience yesterday,” cautioned Vladimir as Magdalene began swatting at the small bugs that buzzed in circles around the space in front of her face. Aridean glanced at the man while Magdalene stared blankly and unamused.
“I, uh, I think she was just joking, Vlad. But don’t worry, Maggie; we know what to expect this time so we shouldn’t be caught off guard again,” Aridean both clarified and explained after a brief pause. Together, the group wandered down the muddy road for a time; Miahnn’uli had long since been lost to the swamp trees and dense canopy.
Along the seemingly endless trail of mud and wet grass, Aridean saw more and more of the same sight: trees surrounding and even growing in the swamp water. On occasion she might have observed some ripples in otherwise calm and still water, though the source of the disturbance was lost beneath the murky surface. From the unpleasant humidity, the minotaur’s panting grew progressively louder whereas her half-even and full blooded human companions each expressed their own dissatisfaction with the heat. Aridean’s ear flicked at the quiet murmurings of Magdalene having said something about not being able to wait until she could return to civilization. Unable to alleviate any tension she or her companions may have been experiencing, Aridean merely recomposed herself as a hand was lifted from her side to scratch at her throat.
“Ah, so a bounty hunting job, then? This should prove… amusing. Would you not agree?” came the familiar and deep voice from somewhere nearby. Startled by the sudden announcement, Aridean had involuntarily punched her chin which had elicited a rumbling laughter from the voice and stares from her companions. Although the blood in her face burned with embarrassment over the unfortunate reaction, Aridean took a deep breath as her eyes scanned the scene around her as she and her fellow travelers continued their march along the moist ground.
Vici? This is amusing to you? the minotaur had inquired internally, confused by the spirit’s apparent interest in her task. All around the muddied trail were tall and thick trees that grew from both the wet, marshy soil and from beneath the pooled swamp waters as well. Little wind had managed to blow through area, leaving the overhead canopy near motionless and silent. Many insects could be heard buzzing as they zipped past and frogs sat upon uprooted logs and rocks scattered around the scene croaking loudly. Thin beams of light had just barely managed to break through the lush ceiling and appearing as rays of golden light shining down from the heavens. However, no matter where her gaze had moved toward during her investigation, Aridean failed to spot the monstrous and hulking form Vici took on.
“You needn’t speak, you’d just appear delirious to your friends. Fret n1ot, I cannot read your mind, but I see that resolve in your heart. I find it… intriguing, to say the least. At least you might keep your hands clean by having that cursed human perform the deed,” the rumbling voice continued after a moment of otherwise silence from Aridean.
My hands… clean… Aridean again spoke within the confines of her own mind. As she thought silently to herself, free of any breach of privacy from eve Vici, the minotaur gradually grew anxious. The rising anxiety had quickly paved the way for a sinking feeling of regret. Her mind had drifted back to her home and what had become of it.
The roar of fires raged in her ears alongside the screams of terrified villagers. She began to experience heat building, different from the humidity of the swamp she had just been passing through, to the point that she thought her own fur was aflame. At the sound of clashing metal joining in the chaotic symphony of flames around her, Aridean felt her heart sink deep into her chest; the air in her lungs seemed to catch and hold for an unpleasant length of time. Slowly turning her head, the minotaur gasped quietly at the sight before her: it was herself looming over a human form dressed in a familiar set of steel armor. She could already feel the onset of cascading tears flowing down her face, the minotaur blinked and the haunting memory had disintegrated. However, something new was already awaiting the minotaur to conclude her prior engagement.
“Ari!” Magdalene cried out, though too late for the minotaur to act. Aridean gasped as she watched a massive and brown-furred paw with sharpened claws fall upon her. Bracing herself as best she could, Aridean had taken the full force of the blow where her feet were dragged off the ground. Air whistled past her ears as she flew back and found herself crashing down into the cold swamp. Through the daze and confusion, the minotaur could just barely make out the frightened scream that came from Magdalene.
Shaking the stars from her vision, Aridean looked up from her spot in the water to see a massive, furred form stood over both Vladimir and Magdalene. Her eyes had gone wide as she processed the sheer size of a monstrously large bear. It stood well over eight feet tall just on its four paws alone. The beast likely towered over the human and half-elf standing before it at an impressively intimidating sixteen feet. With an aggressive roar, the ursine came down upon both Vladimir and Magdalene.
“Maggie! Vlad!” Aridean cried as she stumbled to her feet and reached for the axe holstered upon her back. Having taken matters into his own hands, Vladimir quickly shoved Magdalene out of the way. As the girl stumbled away from the enormous bear, an audible pained grunt could be heard from just behind her. Aridean watched in horror as Vladimir was lifted from the ground in the bear’s jaws and shaken vigorously as though he were nothing more than a toy in the hands of an excited toddler. However, unlike a clingy child, the bear cast its toy away with a flick of its head and releasing its grip with its vice-like jaws.
As Vladimir lay upon the ground, his entire right side having been drenched with his own blood, Aridean refocused on the bear in front of her. Magdalene had been quick to make her way behind a nearby tree for cover but had tried her best to retrieve Vladimir and drag the man to her hiding spot as the abominable ursine roared in Aridean’s direction. The beast leapt over the muddied trail and stood before the still stunned with shock minotaur. Aridean lifted her weapon and assumed a defensive stance as the bear’s paw came up again in preparation for another strike.
“Sheera! Si’putath!” called a deep, guttural voice followed by the loud splashing of something falling into the murky water that covered the area. Much to Aridean’s surprise, the massive bear that had ambushed her and her companions relented its assault. It turned its head in the direction of the voice calling out before crashing down in the water upon its rear. As cold waves brushed past, Aridean followed the enormous bear’s gaze to see that a lizarian male was wading through the water toward the group.
“W-what?” asked Aridean, confused by the appearance of one of the swamp’s natural inhabitants and the sudden cessation to the aggressive bear’s onslaught. She hesitantly lowered her weapon down to her side as the lizarian male trudged through the water and came to a stop beside of the bear. The ursine leaned downward as the lizardman reached out to it where he began cradling its massive head in muscled arms and whispering something in the lizarian tongue to it. Whatever the stranger had said seemed to soothe whatever rage had come over the now docile, almost dog-like bear that licked at his scaled hands and arms affectionately. Aridean could not bring herself to avert her eyes from the impossibly confusing sight, yet her ear flicked at the sound of mud squishing close by.
“Isn’t that what the high shaman shouted at that guy in front of their temple? Was… was she treating him like a pet telling him to ‘sit’ or something?” Magdalene asked, almost sounding somewhat disturbed by the peculiar connotation that the unfamiliar language might imply. At the sound of her companion’s voice, Aridean turned her head to see the young half-elf standing just outside the waters and Vladimir, holding a hand to his side, not far behind. Glancing between her companions and the lizarian stroking the bear’s head, Aridean was at a loss for words on what had just happened. As her senses slowly returned, she inhaled deeply and returned her battle axe to its holster.
“It was--ngh! S-something like that, y-yes,” Vladimir commented through pained grunts, confirming Magdalene’s suspicions regarding the command that the lizarian ordered. The young girl’s face was immediately painted with skeptic confusion, but she simply shook her head without another word. Cradling his side, Vladimir heaved a heavy sigh, “Ms. Yorre… C-could I ask that you help me? The curse does—mgh… the curse does not undo wounds that are, ugh, non-fatal.”
“Only if Ari thinks it’s okay,” Magdalene replied as she crossed her arms over her chest and turned her nose up at Vladimir. As the nobleman panted and grunted in clear discomfort, his clothes having been stained heavily with his own essence, Aridean looked from her half-elven companion to her human companion and back. She let loose a sigh before nodding her head, mentally remarking how she really should not need to tell Magdalene to help in such a situation. Given the affirmation she was waiting for, Magdalene quietly grunted herself in mild irritation before taking a step closer to Vladimir.
Within seconds, the young girl’s hands had begun to emit the familiar, brilliant incandescence as the half-elf channeled her magic. Aridean watched while periodically allowing nervous glances in the lizarian warrior’s direction as Magdalene ran her hands over Vladimir’s bleeding side. The nobleman’s ragged panting began to settle into a more normal breathing pattern until he was able to stand up straight again. Having finished her duty, Magdalene’s hands had quickly lost their glow, where she and Vladimir locked eyes for a moment, “I am most grateful for your assistance, Ms. Yorre. Thank you.”
Magdalene merely rolled her eyes at Vladimir’s appreciation. Having restored themselves, the group turned to focus upon the lizarian that continued to embrace the excruciatingly large ursine. After a moment of nuzzling his pet’s neck, the lizarian man turned. Aridean’s eyes quickly scanned the stranger before her, noting the tattered jeans adorning his legs that led into a loincloth that was equally as tattered and mud stained as the jeans. There was a sheathed short sword on each hip and numerous scars had painted his arms, torso, tail, legs, and even his head. A quiet gasp had escaped Aridean’s throat as the realization dawned upon her.
“It’s you,” Aridean noted, her voice a near whisper. Without doubt, this was the same lizarian warrior that had come to the group’s aid when they had been attacked by a massive, man-eating flower just yesterday. Having confirmed Aridean’s near silent observation with a simple nod of his head and a flick of his tongue, the minotaur felt a chill run down her spine and along the length of her tail that hung behind her. She swallowed the lump of anxiety forming in her throat as she began to process that her search for the deimn’la had come to an end, but a much greater struggle was only just beginning.
“Gav’tuu, kani-priestess, hana-corpse… smell of Miahnn’uli… Done in swamp? Go home. Path out there,” the lizarian warrior instructed as he lifted a clawed finger and pointed it in the direction of the nearest route out of the Wiir Swamplands. The non-swamplands natives took a step backward, however, as the massive bear behind the lizardman opened its mouth wide; fangs as large as Magdalene dripped with large globules of saliva. Before Aridean could warn their repeat savior, the large ursine’s tongue had been pushed against his scaled back. Eyes wide with surprise, Aridean simply watched as the lizarian before her was licked by a tongue almost as large as himself. The strength behind the affectionate display had lifted the reptilian individual from the ground for a moment. Oddly enough, a smirk appeared upon the warrior’s face as he turned to give his presumed pet another hug. Stupefied by the bizarre interaction, Aridean took nearly a full minute to simply collect her thoughts and shake whatever unease had been weighing upon her shoulders.
“Oh, w-we aren’t quite done with our business here in the Wiir Swamplands,” an anxious Aridean started to explain. She felt the muscles in her shoulders tense as reptilian male before her eyed her from horned head to hoof with sharp and focused eyes. His tongue flicked in and out of his lipless mouth as he took in every aspect he could utilizing his specialized senses. The minotaur could not help but swallow hard as the scaled man leaned in toward her.
“What doing?” the warrior asked bluntly. It was difficult to tell whether or not his inquiry had been meant to intimidate or if it were solely a product of the inflection his gutturally deep voice carried as he spoke. Whatever the case, the tension that crept down Aridean’s spine had taken a firm grip upon her being as she began to feel her body heat up with a mixture of embarrassment and unease.
“We, uhm, well…” stammered the flustered minotaur as she tried to focus on breathing in and out. Having observed their furred companion shutting down, Magdalene had simply rolled her eyes while crossing her arms over her chest. Vladimir, on the other hand, took a step forward and ushered the socially overwhelmed minotaur back a few paces.
“Ms. Gray? If I may?” Vladimir began to speak gently. As Aridean seemed to snap back to reality, she looked to her human companion. Although her distress was still readily visible upon her own fuzzy visage, she could see what appeared to be something frightening upon Vladimir’s countenance. Before she could speak up, the human had turned back to the group’s reptilian guest, “My friend, we’ve come in search of you.”
“What warm bloods want?” the lizarian male demanded with his arms crossed over his broad and only mostly covered chest. At this proposed question, Vladimir had directed his full attention to the lizard folk with his chest puffed out and hands folded behind his back. After a moment to clear his throat, Aridean could not help but think that even when stained with mud that Vladimir always maintained a special level of dignity and respect.
“My friend… this brings me no joy, but we have been tasked by the high shaman with the elimination of the deimn’la,” Vladimir began to explain with a rather blunt tone to his words. At the conclusion of his statement, the man brought his hands to fold behind his back while a long pause had settled over the group. Insects could be heard chirping and singing form all around. Something large splashed into the water somewhere in the distance, almost sounding just as loud as if an entire boulder had been cast into the swamp water. Throughout this period of otherwise silence, Aridean watched as the lizarian that had joined her and her companions once again had started to mouth something silently to himself.
Having elected to ignore the travelers wandering around his swamp, the male turned as he continued to mouth something wordlessly. Behind him, his enormous bear had leaned its head down and began to nuzzle one of his scaled arms. Without even looking, the hand to the nuzzled limb was lifted to rub the bridge of the bear’s snout, eliciting a pleased murmur of sorts from the giant ursine. Throughout this, the lizarian male had continued to ignore Aridean and her companions while moving his mouth without a sound and tending to his apparent, if unexpected, pet’s desire for attention. After a long while, the lizarian warrior returned his attention to his guests, though not without demonstrating an air of confusion about his scaled features.
“What e-lim-uh-nay-shun mean?” the lizardman asked after his long time of having practiced the word quietly to himself. Each of the members of the group had found themselves somewhat confused by the stranger before them. After a moment to let the surprise process, Vladimir cleared his throat. As the human man went to speak, he found himself unable to gather his thoughts and explain to the group’s mark what elimination meant.
“I-uh… uhm…” Vladimir started to stutter in his flustered state. Both Aridean and Magdalene had widely different impressions on having to watch Vladimir of all people to stumble over their words. The human was clearly unable to deliver the news that the travelers had been assigned the task of murdering their newest acquaintance. Aridean’s eyes shifted between the two men that were simply staring back at one another without a word. She observed the rather inquisitive look in the lizarian warrior’s eyes and could not help but find the manner in which the scaled head tilted in confusion somewhat endearing despite the reptilian standing at about her height. Magdalene, on the other hand, huffed her agitation with Vladimir. The young girl first snorted before smacking Vladimir on his right arm.
“Lord have mercy! Do you really want to go through with this? He doesn’t even know what you just said!” scolded the impatient half-elven girl. Vladimir’s sight shifted between the group’s objective and Magdalene, never stopping upon one focus for more than a few seconds. An awkward silence had fallen across the area and the group where the only thing to be heard were the songs of the insects and birds from above and all around joined by the gentle splash of the murky water serenaded the swamp. The swamp symphony, however, had been tuned out after only a short period of listening to the somewhat uproarious ambiance. Although it had taken the man a moment, Vladimir had managed to compose himself once again as he cleared his throat and gently shook his head.
“Ms. Yorre, I understand that it may not be the most wholesome approach, but it is what our mission calls for, yes? It is what must be done,” asserted a more resolute Vladimir, clearly having resolved himself to carry out the task assigned by the high shaman. Magdalene failed to retort but instead had simply stared at the nobleman with a scrunched-up expression of bewilderment at his statement. Similarly, the group’s acquaintance was growing impatient, signaled by the low rumbling growl that began to emanate from the back of his throat. Despite the clear warning, Aridean glanced from Vladimir to the lizarian and then back to Vladimir before sighing her own reservation.
“I just… I don’t feel right about this at all,” announced Aridean, shoulders drooping somewhat in a defeated fashion. Internally, the minotaur’s mind had become conflicted: she had set out in order to accomplish a task for Mikali and the rebellion, though she had not come to slay an innocent. Even should the natural order within the swamp dictate that carrying out such a loathsome act merit celebration amongst the local population, the mere thought of such a burden was enough to weigh heavily upon Aridean’s heart.
I was the one to strike down my own father… Even if it had been the only way to save Thellia… I don’t ever want to kill someone again, Aridean thought quietly to herself. As the minotaur released another long and weary sigh, the growling from the group’s guest had grown even more vocal. As the lizarian warrior let loose a harsh snarl, Aridean took a step back only to bump into Magdalene who had taken shelter from the imposing lizardman by hiding behind the towering minotaur. Behind the lizarian, the massive bear that had previously made a chew-toy out of Vladimir had begun wiping its face with its two front paws as water splashed all around it.
“What warm bloods saying?! Rgh! Why come to swamp?! Why no leave?!” the reptilian male vehemently spat. His growing anger and impatience with the non-locals was made evident in his glaring eyes beneath a furrowed brow, nostrils flaring with every heavy breath, and his tensed muscles that looked ready to engage the group in combat at any second. Aridean’s ear flicked at the sound of the bear snorting from behind its owner. At the noise from his pet, the lizarian had turned to look upon the bear that stared down at him with its head cocked to one side. When he turned back, the furrowed brow still adorned his scaled features, though the rest of his body seemed more relaxed. Aridean’s eyes had gone wide at the sudden epiphany as her gaze darted back and forth between pet ursine and master lizard folk.
“Ms. Gray, Ms. Yorre… I have already volunteered to shoulder the burden of this deed. I do not feel comfortable subjecting you two to witnessing any coming bloodshed. I would like to reque—,” Vladimir began to propose, having entirely disregarded the lizarian’s demand for their being in the swamp still.
“Bloodshed?” interrupted the reptilian warrior. It may have been a curious or a confused, or even a mixture of the two, expression that now painted the scaled features across his face. Although nothing else seemed to register with the lizarian, he had clearly taken an interest in Vladimir’s use of the term.
“Vlad let’s just rethink this. There must be another way to convince the high shaman,” Aridean suggested with a gentle shake of her head, still trying to talk Vladimir down from engaging in battle with the lizarian. Her words, unfortunately, seemed to only fall upon deaf ears as Vladimir continued to closely watch the lizardman with his one visible eye. Peaking out from behind Aridean, Magdalene had observed that the group’s peculiar guest had begun mumbling something quietly to himself while staring down toward the ground. The young girl prodded Aridean’s arm in a bid to get her attention before gesturing to the reptile.
“High shaman, bloodshed… Sheera bite hard… Corpse not die to dragon bloom, not die to Sheera…” the lizarian male had quietly started to ponder. Every few words spoken in his broken English had been split by a deliberate hum that sounded more like the onset to another growl. After a moment to contemplate aloud, if near silently, the lizarian looked to Vladimir, “Corpse feel pain?”
“I-I beg your pardon? Well, yes, I feel pain, though it matters little as you observed yesterday that I am incapable of dying,” Vladimir replied with a quirked brow upon his head, clearly caught off guard by the question. His one good eye quickly scanned the reptile before him. Aridean heard the nobleman let out a thoughtful hum before he continued, “Taking into consideration another’s pain? You are a most peculiar case for your people.”
“Hmm… Not good feeling…” the lizarian warrior muttered while focused intently upon Vladimir. It had appeared that the lizardman had entirely disregarded Vladimir’s comment about himself. Nevertheless, Vladimir turned to both Aridean and Magdalene as the group’s acquaintance had begun quietly mumbling to himself again.
“Ms. Gray, Ms. Yorre, I understand that you two would like to investigate other avenues of securing the high shaman’s cooperation, but the lizarian people are very difficult to please. I would like to request that you two return to Miahnn’uli and allow me to challenge our companion here,” Vladimir announced to the girls. Although their means of expressing their uncertainty differed, both Aridean and Magdalene stared back at the man with disbelief and annoyance upon their faces, respectively. Having grown annoyed to the point of starting a much less intimidating than the lizardman’s growl of her own, Magdalene had moved her way around Aridean and glared up at the nobleman.
“Why are you not listening to us?!” snapped Magdalene with clear frustration and contempt in her voice concerning Vladimir’s decision to carry out the task given to the group by the high shaman. Despite the young girl’s agitated tone, Vladimir faced the lizardman with determined focus in his expression. Even Aridean was beginning to grow somewhat perplexed by the man’s insistence on the matter.
“Challenge? Hmph…” the lizarian warrior quietly hummed aloud. Although it was still unclear whether or not he understood the gravity of Vladimir’s proposal, Aridean noted that the reptilian male had fixed his piercing gaze upon her human companion. A slight wave of dread had crawled its way down her spine, leaving the fur on her back standing on end, at the intense expression upon the lizarian’s scaled features.
“Vlad, please listen!” Aridean had nearly started to plead with the stubborn man. Unfortunately, she found that Vladimir had already decided to act upon his initial trial.
“Sir, I do apologize, but we haven’t any other options. For the sake of our cause, I must challenge you. As is customary of your people, I invoke a duel: kallak riin tyu,” Vladimir exclaimed, his tone having grown much more forceful and serious. As the man spoke, he lifted one of his hands from his sides to which the appendage began to glow with an aura of the same darkened reddish color that they had back in Cortonne. Much to both Aridean and Magdalene’s confusion and shock, the normally calm and collected Vladimir seemed fully intent on initiating a magical attack against the lizardman standing before the team. Rather than show any sort of concern or willingness to defend himself, the lizarian warrior merely flicked his tongue in and out of his mouth in Vladimir’s direction. Although the thrum of magic could be felt emanating from Vladimir’s fingertips in anticipation of his command, the nobleman withheld instigating a duel. The man simply stood prepared for combat with eyes focused upon the lizarian warrior as he uncrossed his arms from over his chest. Aside from the occasional splash of swamp water and a snort from the bear called Sheera, an awkward silence had befallen the strange group of acquaintances. Eventually, Vladimir managed to open his mouth to speak further, “Now then, take up your arms! I’ve a great many sins weighing heavily upon my heart, but I must allow you a fighting cha—”
Vladimir’s voice was immediately cut off, replaced by an audibly pained grunt that slipped out between clenched teeth. Aridean’s eyes had gone wide and legs felt weak while Magdalene let loose a frightened shriek that nearly drowned out the sound of the thud of something landing upon the ground at Vladimir’s feet. The nobleman himself fell to his knees, clutching his right arm, now a fountain of squirting streams of dark red, and groaning loudly in obvious agony. Just in front of the man who was writhing in pain was his own hand having dropped from his extended arm with a single clean cut.
“Vlad!” Aridean cried out in shock at the sight. Looming over Vladimir was the lizarian warrior, one of his twin blades held at his side and dripping with the same crimson color that now coated Vladimir’s once fine clothes. It had been a single swing and a motion that had only spanned a breath as the reptilian had moved so fast it had been near imperceptible. The lizarian lifted his blade up toward his face where his forked tongue lapped up what streams of crimson still slid down the metal surface. A growing bead of the dark liquid quickly piled atop his thin tongue before it retreated into his mouth where the reptilian swallowed audibly.
“Warm bloods go to high shaman. High shaman send warm bloods here. Must mean…” the lizarian had started to speak aloud, seemingly to himself. He kept his blade held just in front of his face, staring thoughtfully into the unpolished metal. After a short pause, the bizarre warrior’s eyes shifted over to Aridean and Magdalene. One scaled foot rose from the ground and forcibly kicked the human panting and gasping upon the marshy soil. As Vladimir tumbled back a short distance, the lizarian slowly turned toward to Aridean and Magdalene, “Yol’tu nioh, gia?”
“A-Ari, h-he’s looking angry,” Magdalene stuttered as she cowered behind the minotaur towering over her. Still somewhat stunned by the sudden assault on her traveling companion, Aridean had managed to collect herself enough to anxiously swallow the unease building in her throat. Coming to her senses, if only a little, she lifted her hands in surrender as the strange reptile took a single step in her direction.
“W-wait! Please! W-we don’t want to hurt you!” Aridean frantically tried to call out to the lizarian. Her words, unfortunately, seemed on only fall upon deaf ears as the scaled individual took another step closer.
“No choice left… This last chance,” the warrior seemed to assert with his guttural and deep voice. Aridean felt every muscle in her body tensing at the approach of the lizardman. Her eyes glanced over toward Vladimir to see that the human had seemingly passed out, likely due to a mixture of shock and blood loss. She hesitantly took a step back, pushing Magdalene further back in the process.
“Please listen! We want to find another way! There’s no reason for us to fight here!” Aridean tried to reason with the approaching lizarian. Her heart sank into the deepest pit of her chest as the scaled head merely shook back and forth. Slitted pupils within his eyes were focused intently upon the panicked and confused minotaur.
“Kallak riin tyu, gav’tuu,” the lizarian warrior slowly declared while just as slowly drawing the second of his twin blades. Having uttered the reptilian equivalent of a challenge to a duel, the lizardman assumed a battle stance with his weapons pointed toward a startled and confused Aridean. Before the minotaur could even open her mouth to protest, the scaled challenger had already launched himself in her direction with blades ready to strike.
