Dark Age Year 871
Fifteenth day of the First month
They ran as fast as they could down the blood-stained corridors, through the gore-infested hallways, and up the stairs with cascades of broken bodies and wills that lay on the cold stone floor like fallen blades of grass. Their broken armour and weapons serving as makeshift grave markers. If someone with a weaker will or stomach were to witness this sight, to truly behold it, it would be a sight of utter horror and terror. It would be the kind of scene that could make one’s stomach churn, cause the bile in one’s throat to boil to the surface, make your limbs feel weak, your knees buckle, and your arms feel as if they were being weighed down by bricks of lead. Tharos, Rayner, and Cenric were faced with such a sight as they hurried toward the temple exit. Tharos, though familiar with such sights, found it unsettling. It wasn’t the fear of a similar fate awaiting him that troubled him, but rather the realization that he was capable of inflicting such harm without remorse. In fact, he felt a twisted sense of pleasure and excitement, deriving satisfaction from overcoming his enemies, regardless of the difficulty. It had been a feeling, an emotion that had been within him ever since he was a small boy, back in his youth, back when he was a mortal human being and could be classified as such, not as this husk, this small ember of his former self. Although his skills with the blade hadn’t diminished much in the waning years, as evidenced by the scene before him and the numerous opponents he dispatched with little effort, these acts were only a fraction of what he was once capable of. While he could feel that power, that strength slowly returning to him, it was mere droplets of falling rain compared to the rolling storm he once embodied. For Tharos, it was like he was a small child learning how to walk again. If he were at his full potential, he could easily eliminate these snake people if he chose to. However, the primary reason for his battle with them was to reassure Cenric, and they had achieved that goal. There was no need for him or any of them to linger and continue fighting these snake people when the root cause of the conflict was about to be resolved. For Tharos, fighting for the sake of fighting wasn’t his way, regardless of the pleasure he got from it. He needed a reason, a purpose for fighting, at least that’s what he would tell himself, for that’s what he wanted to believe. While they were indeed his enemies, it would be unwise to allow them to live. A deceased enemy was preferable to a living one. However, if what Rayner said about the snake people was to be believed, they rarely, if ever, venture out of the borders of the Deadlands. Tharos was planning on staying as far as possible from this blighted place.
In the grand scheme of things, these snake people were not his issue or concern. Sure, it was somewhat cowardly or even amateurish to leave this conflict unfinished or fully resolved. Not totally destroying your enemies was a concept that was mostly alien to his people when it came to enemies of the empire, and there was a certain logic to it, a rather pragmatic form of logic one could say. Even if the ethics and morality of it were questionable at best. However, there were other considerations at play here that he had to consider. For example, with Rayner joining their group, their food and water supplies were starting to dwindle. While Tharos didn’t necessarily need to eat and drink to keep himself going, his companions did. They had been lucky to scavenge for more supplies, but Tharos knew that kind of luck wouldn’t last. According to Cenric and the maps they had, there were about two weeks left of travel to go before they were out of the Deadlands. Leaving the Deadlands was what Tharos needed to focus on.
As they neared the top floor of the temple and approached the entranceway leading to the clearing that led to the caves outside, Tharos sensed a sudden surge of magical energy ahead. It seemed as though something had materialized or been summoned from the realms beyond, the boundaries between worlds. The threshold between the physical realm of flesh and matter and the ethereal realms of spirit, energy, and dreams. A place where reality intertwined with the intangible, where the distinctions between substance, consciousness, and spirituality were indistinct. It was the place where the spirit of all things that died would go, the birthplace of the divine and the demonic, where the gods dwelled since the physical realm could not sustain nor handle their presence.
As Tharos focused on this new sensation, he sensed its presence. It was a cold and dark presence that chilled his blood and made his heart race even faster than before. It was a Demon, a decently strong one as well.
“They summoned a Demon. That is going to be a rather difficult foe to face,” Tharos thought to himself as he turned his head towards Cenric and Rayner, who trailed behind him. Both of them were covered in blood, but neither of them seemed tired or injured. He then established the mental link.
(“There is a Demon up ahead, a powerful one,”) Cenric looked a little scared and shocked, while Rayner gave a wide, toothy smile.
(“Finally, a worthy foe, not like these damn piss ants they call warriors,“) Rayner said gleefully, looking back at the trail of carnage the two of them left in their wake.
(“Cenric, take cover and stay out of the way while Rayner and I handle this Demon. Do you understand?”) Tharos instructed.
(“Yes, Tharos, I understand,“) Cenric replied, giving a small nod.
(“Good. Now it’s time to do battle,“) Tharos said as they reached the top floor of the temple and exited to the clearing.
The trio was confronted by a nightmarish three-headed snake of immense size. Its scales were a sickly green colour with deep black throbbing veins running down its body. Its eyes burned with a yellowish-red flame, and on its underbelly were multiple human faces in different states of decay and emotion, all screaming in agony and pain. As he and Rayner drew their weapons, the snake Demon noticed them, staring at them with its glowing eyes. Its three mouths lit up, spewing forth torrents of yellowish-red flame. The heat was intense; Tharos could feel it even before it whizzed past the three of them, destroying one of the statues in the temple along with incinerating several more snake people who had followed behind them, hoping to ambush or attack them from behind while they were busy fighting the Demon. As the attack missed its mark, Cenric quickly sought cover behind one of the temple’s stone pillars, while Tharos and Rayner bravely charged towards the Demon with their weapons raised. The ground trembled and shook as the Demon let out a deafening roar, raising its tail in preparation to strike. As Tharos and Rayner closed in on the daemon, it swept its tail. Tharos managed to duck and roll beneath it, while Rayner took the impact head-on, digging his axe into the demon’s scales as it struck him and pushed him back. As his axe bit deeply into the creature, its scales started to frost over, slowly spreading across its body like a growing plague, poisoning the body. As the Demon focused its attention on Rayner, its three heads stared at him with rage burning in their eyes, their mouths lighting up again, ready to spew forth another torrent of hellfire. Tharos seized this opportunity to strike. He rushed up, climbed the creature’s body, and with a swift leap, Tharos jumped on one of the side heads, slashing at the centre head aiming for the eye. With a quick tumble and flip, he jumped to the other side head, taking out another of its eyes before landing on the centre head and stabbing it through the skull. The heads roared in pain as the centre head started to drop down and go limp, crashing to the ground below, with Tharos falling with it, crashing down to the ground with a thud. The Demon’s two heads then turned their full attention towards Tharos as he tried to regain his footing. They spewed forth a torrent of flame towards him. Quickly thinking, Tharos grabbed his shield and did a quick flip to the side, making sure his shield was in front of him. However, he wasn’t fast enough. While he didn’t take a direct hit, the torrent of flame that spewed forth from its mouths managed to hit him square on the left side, taking his shield and most of his left arm and leg with it, with his metal arm guards and greaves melting into his flesh, in a glowing hot pile of slag.
“Ahhh!” Tharos yelled in pain as the demon flames and heated metal burned and bore into his flesh. As Tharos tried to regain his composure, the demon began to close in on him, hoping to take this chance to rip him in two. However, before it could fully lunge at Tharos, its fangs glistening in the faint glow of the torchlight in the cavern, one of the heads was severed from the base of the skull as Rayner brought his axe down on the demon in a blow similar to the executioner’s block. Red blood burst forth from the creature’s stump where its head once was, with some of the blood starting to slowly freeze over, spreading across its body. As Rayner was about to go in for the kill and finish it off, the demon suddenly stood still as if frozen, then broke apart at the seams when Rayner landed a critical blow. The demon couldn’t handle it any more; it was dying. Tharos could sense it; the demon had run out of demonic power, and the mages who had summoned it clearly were not willing to transfer more Mana into it to keep it going. As the demon dropped fully to the ground and started to disintegrate into black dust.
Rayner offered his hand to Tharos, which Tharos accepted. He helped him stand up and dusted him off as what was left of his left arm and leg slowly started to heal. (“Looks like we are even now, milk drinker,“) Rayner said with a rather bold and toothy smile.
Tharos returned this with a small smile of his own. (“If you wish for a rematch, we will have to postpone for another time since…“) Tharos could sense more snake people converging on their location; they needed to get out of here fast.
Rayner snorted. (“I don’t know, killing that demon worked up quite an appetite for battle, but we got what we came for.”)
Tharos then saw Cenric walking towards them, his eyes wide, almost in disbelief of what he had witnessed. (“Wow, I can’t believe you beat that thing with just the two of you,“) he exclaimed. Rayner gave a snort. (“If you trust in your blade and the fiery furnace of your heart, there is no foe you will not conquer, whelp.”)
(“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way, Rayner. But I can see the point. We should leave now; I sense more of them coming, and I would prefer not to stay any longer than I have to.”)
Tharos gestured for both of them to follow him, and they ran as fast as their legs could carry them out of the caves, hoping to leave the snake people and the Deadlands behind them, forever in the dust. As they fled, Tharos felt a tap on his shoulder.
(“Yes, Cenric, what is it?”) Tharos asked, looking at Cenric.
(“I just wanted to say thanks for coming to rescue me again,”) Cenric replied.
(“There’s no need for thanks, Cenric. You saved yourself this time. We just provided a little help. I must admit, escaping your captors by yourself was rather bold. You have to tell me in detail how you did it,“) Tharos said.
Cenric shrugged sleepily. (“It was nothing, just a bit of luck on my part.”)
(“There is a fine line between luck and skill, Cenric. You give yourself too little credit,”) Tharos remarked. “Sure, whatever you say, Tharos.”
After some time, the three of them put some distance between themselves and the snake people, continuing their journey out of the Deadlands, leaving this hellish place and its inhabitants behind them forever. However, little did they know at the time, this wouldn’t be the last time they would venture into the Deadlands or have encounters with the snake people. Those are stories for another time.
