Shemeska
Adventurer
***
“No, turn right up ahead.” The petitioner said. “And watch for the loose rocks. They tend to collect there from the shaft above.”
“You seem to know a lot about these caves.” Clueless commented.
“I live here.” Their guide replied. “It’s expected.”
Nisha nearly hit her head on a sudden outcrop of rock as the tunnel grew tighter.
“Waaaatch your head.” The petitioner warned them.
Fyrehowl was still as alert as ever. She didn’t seem to trust the man in the slightest, and she kept glancing at him sidelong when she didn’t think he was looking. The petitioner ignored her and kept steering them through the maze of tunnels, ever so slowly rising higher and higher through the passage-riddled limestone of the mountain.
As they walked, the guide periodically slipped on the ring they had given him, testing it with a giddy expression on his face. He’d activate its magic and hop up in the air at which point the ring would take effect and cause him to ever so slowly drift down to solid ground. It was certainly useful to him, and he was seemingly overjoyed with his luck.
“We only have about another twenty minutes of walking left.” He said, pointing them down yet another junction in the tunnel.
Overjoyed was just a start. His eyes were nearly bugging out of his head at the total amount of finely crafted and likely magical equipment his eventual victims were openly carrying. But he could wait. The Bebeliths would kill them soon enough after he and they parted ways.
“So, where are we headed?” Toras asked.
Kiro smiled happily at their guide while Fyrehowl continued to regard the petitioner with suspicion.
“Just up this tunnel the rock will start to change color.” He replied. “At that point you’ll only have a short way to go before you reach the top, and we’ll be parting ways.”
They nodded and followed him. Soon enough the rock shifted from white, water smoothed limestone to a rougher stone discolored by the influx of acids and organic compounds from the jungle above. The passage angled up more and more as they progressed, and eventually their guide paused and motioned them on.
“There you go.” He said. “From here it’s a straight shot to the top.”
“Thank you.” Kiro said.
“No thanks needed.” He said with a shrug. “I helped you because you paid me. That’s how things work down here.”
He bowed to them, putting especial emphasis on Fyrehowl, and then he was gone, swallowed up by the yawning darkness of the cave network that riddled the mountainside.
They waited till he was fully gone to proceed. Fyrehowl continued looking at the darkness for a few more moments, half expecting their guide to return with a group of his fellows in ambush. Kiro patted her on the back though and dissuaded her of the concern.
“Don’t worry about him.” The cleric said. “Sure he’s a Carcerian petitioner, but…”
“Which makes me implicitly not trust him.” Fyrehowl replied.
“We’re fine with him.” Kiro tried to reassure her. “I’d just worry about where he’s sending us.”
“We’ll find out.” Florian said as she proceeded up the tunnel.
Ahead in the darkness, their voices bounced off of the walls and carried far ahead of them. And there in the darkness, a pair of creatures were listening. Tiny hairs twitched and responded, focusing on the sounds, and multiple eyes blinked and gazed out into the shadows. The Bebeliths lurked and waited.
As they continued their climb, they quickly began to notice tatters of thin, gossamer material on the floor of the passage, and strands of gooey rope-like silk on the ceiling and covering smaller side passages.
“Guys.” Fyrehowl said. “That’s not good.”
“To say the least…” Tristol said as he sent his light hovering out a few more feet ahead of the group.
Kiro peered over his shoulder warily.
“I felt it too…” Fyrehowl said.
“We’ve been screwed over by that damn petitioner…” Clueless said.
“Told you so.” Fyrehowl said with a soft snarl.
A soft scuttling sound echoed through the caves, muted by the presence of the webbing. Something was out there, following them, likely hedging them into specific tunnels as they found others blocked by webs.
“One’s behind us.” Kiro said as he drew his swords. “Be ready, there’s probably more than one.”
They were prepared, barely, when two massive Bebeliths burst into the tunnel, one on each side. The spider-like fiends barely fit into the passage, both penning their victims in except for webbed over side tunnels, and limiting their own maneuverability.
Clueless struck first, hurling a bolt of lightning into the gnashing mandibles of one of the two fiends, causing it to screech and lash out randomly. Tristol and Florian went next, both of them hurling spells into the open maw closing in on them despite its wounds. They left it a smoking, twitching corpse seconds later.
The other Bebelith twisted and a shower of thick, liquid silk splattered from its abdomen across the tunnel, holding Florian and Clueless fast to the walls, bound up in the webbing. The others though managed to avoid the sticky strands or they cut themselves out of it in mere moments.
Emboldened, not hampered by the webs, Toras charged. It struck first, its legs ripping into the fighter’s chest with the sound of rending metal before it hurled him backwards. Toras didn’t seem badly hurt, but his armor had been torn apart and lay in fragments on the ground.
“Son of a b*tch!” He shouted, as Fyrehowl and Kiro dashed past him to stab at the remaining fiend.
It was over seconds later, and glancing gingerly at the twitching corpses penning them in, Florian began to heal the wounds the creatures had managed to inflict. In the meantime, Kiro and Fyrehowl opened up the webbing blocking one of the side passages, given that the two Bebelith corpses were blocking their current passage fully with their bulk. Toras however was not happy, and he growled as Nisha patted his shoulder.
“Oh hells…” Toras said as he picked up the torn and mangled remains of his breastplate.
The armor was damaged beyond recovery, and the fighter sulked miserably as he looked at the massive gouges scored deep into the metal caused by the Bebelith’s claws.
“Hey, some of us get along quite well without all that much armor.” Nisha said. “Besides, now you won’t clank so much when we need to be sneaky.”
“I don’t clank.” He replied before he kicked the dead Bebelith with a pronounced rattle of metal.
Nisha stared at him with a cockeyed glance.
“Take it out on the tiger headed jackass we’ll be finding shortly.” Florian said, trying to console him.
Toras shrugged and grumbled.
It was then that Kiro paused as if he’d suddenly remembered something. The cleric reached into his pocket and took something out.
“Oh, Toras.” He said. “Here’s your ring back by the way.”
“Excuse me?” Toras asked.
“Here you go.” Kiro said, putting the ring into Toras’s hand. “I figured our guide was going to screw us over so I swiped your ring from him and slipped him another one.”
Nisha gave Kiro an appreciative glance. “I approve!”
***
“Well,” The petitioner said as he sat down on the edge of a steep chasm in the rock. “They actually fell for it.”
He threw back his head and laughed. Either they had assumed him bought off by the ring, or too outnumbered to stab them in the back; perhaps they simply hadn’t known how the world worked quite like he understood it. Betrayers and the betrayed, that was all there was in the world, and he knew clearly which side he was on.
“About now the Bebeliths should be getting full on your flesh.” He continued with a chuckle.
Greed danced in his mind as he considered the likely pickings he’d find after the Bebeliths were done ripping the flesh off of the corpses. As they always had, they left behind anything they couldn’t eat, and this time he’d be plundering a king’s ransom if his guesses were right.
He relaxed and gave a contented sigh, spinning the paltry little ring on his finger that they had willingly given him. But for the moment there was nothing to do but wait. It wouldn’t be safe to intrude upon the feasting Bebeliths for several hours, and even then he’d have to take multiple trips to plunder the remains.
“Got what was coming to me.” He said with another laugh as he pushed off the side of the shaft to enjoy his new toy.
He dropped like a stone. He screamed and scrambled madly for a handhold, but found none as he tumbled. A second before he plummeted the final three hundred feet down to his death, he noticed that the ring on his finger wasn’t the same one that he’d been handed originally.
Somewhere else, Kiro was smiling.
***
It took them another thirty minutes of blind wandering to find their way out of the tunnels and up onto the plateau above. Mostly it was less true wandering than simply cutting their way through the Bebelith webs that were strung up across a majority of the passages they had to pass through. But eventually they did, and they stepped out of a shallow rocky opening, swathed in layers of sticky, debris-laden silk.
“Normally we’d emerge up into bright sunlight and fresh air.” Florian said. “And we’d be happy.”
“Yeah well, we’ll have to make do with crimson light and sticky acidic air.” Clueless said.
“Oy…” Florian replied as she climbed up and into the jungle.
“And yes Nisha, you’re very scary as a spider.” Tristol said, glancing up at Nisha.
Nisha grinned and got down from the clump of webs she’d been perched in, moving her hands like spider mandibles next to her mouth. The others had blissfully ignored her for the most part, usually that worked, it didn’t help to encourage her.
The jungle that shrouded the top of the mountain wasn’t nearly as thick as that in the lowland basin. They praised this point as they made their way slowly and cautiously towards the area that was located at the center of the wardings that extended over miles upon miles of the scarlet lit layer.
A short time later they emerged onto a thin path that cut through the jungle, running alongside the edge of the plateau. Paved in eroded flagstones, the group slowly progressed along its length, looking down periodically over the side at the swampy lowlands below. Deadly choking acidic clouds hung like mobile ornaments, drifting over the jungle canopy below, almost sublime if not for the horrors they knew dwelt beneath.
“Stop!” Fyrehowl suddenly hissed, holding up a hand in warning.
“What?” Tristol asked.
The guardinal paused and knelt down, pointing to a vine stretched across the path. The vine had tension, almost like it was some sort of crude, improvised tripwire.
“That would be a trap.” Nisha said.
“Or an alarm.” Kiro said, motioning to a set of metal scraps and rocks tied into the vine just off the side of the path.
“Wow.” Toras said. “The Rakshasa must have really blown his budget with his early traps. By the time we reach him he’ll just have some shallow holes to make us trip, or perhaps some buckets of water over doorways…”
“I don’t buy it…” Clueless said.
“Don’t buy it?” Toras asked.
“It’s out of place.” The bladesinger replied.
Kiro shrugged, stepped forwards and tugged on the vine. It rattled and made noise.
“And now we wait for the fiends to jump out and kill us…?” Florian mused.
Something burst out of the undergrowth.
“It’s a bag with legs holding a spear! Run!” Nisha screamed.
“…Skalliska?” Fyrehowl said as the thing in a bag ineffectually jabbed a spear at them in a vaguely threatening manner.
“Why are you wearing a potato sack?” Nisha asked.
The sack with legs and a spear paused and mumbled, lowering its weapon.
“How the hell did you get out here Skalliska?!” Toras exclaimed.
The bag mumbled again.
“Oh for…” Florian said as she yanked the bag off of Skalliska.
“No no no!” The naked kobold shouted. “Acid!”
“Oh sh*t!” Florian said, stuffing Skalliska back in the bag as the kobold started to sizzle.
Tristol bit his lower lip and tried to avoid snickering as he muttered the words to a spell, granting the kobold the same resistance as the rest of them had.
“What happened to your clothes?” Nisha asked.
Skalliska paused from hugging Florian long enough to answer.
“I never thought I’d see you all again. Some b*stards grabbed me in Sigil and tried to drag me to that damn Rakshasa.” She said. “How’d you know to come after me?”
“Some others tried to kill us as well.” Clueless said. “The Rakshasa sent us a note claiming he had you and that he’d kill you if we didn’t follow his instructions.”
“Who’s he?” Skalliska asked all of a sudden, looking at Kiro.
Kiro smiled politely and bowed his head.
“That’s Kiro. He got involved in all of this pretty much by chance.” Fyrehowl said. “We’ll formally introduce you two later.”
“He’s cool.” Florian said, smacking the other cleric happily on the back.
Kiro chuckled and gave a fairly humble smile. “I like to think that I’ve been useful.”
“So how did you escape?” Clueless asked.
“I got loose just as they met up with the Rakshasa.” Skalliska explained, glancing warily in the path’s direction behind her. “He killed them all.”
Fyrehowl blinked.
“Killed them?” She asked.
“In pretty spectacular fashion…” The kobold replied.
“So that’s where your clothes went?” Nisha asked.
Skalliska paused. “Yes. That’s where my clothes went. Good to see you too Nisha. The kidnappers took everything on me, including clothes. I was too busy avoiding prismatic sprays to look for where they had them.”
Nisha grinned without a care in the world.
“Back to the Rakshasa though…” Toras said. “Where is he?”
Skalliska pointed back along the path.
“Follow me…”
***
They stepped into the courtyard behind Skalliska. The bodies of her captors were gone with not a spot of blood left on the stones, nor a single mark of the magical cascade that had slaughtered them.
“Ok, color me impressed.” Clueless said as he gazed up at the ruined yet sprawling expanse of the Rakshasa’s palace that rose up out of the jungle.
“His palace isn’t exactly much to look at…” Florian said as she gazed up at the weathered and acid ravaged stone of the once exquisite sculptures that covered the walls.
“I’m not looking at the palace.” Clueless said. “I’m looking at the damn wardings around the place.”
Tristol whistled as he did the same. “Ok… yeah.”
“Details.” Florian said. “Details would be useful.”
“How can I say this best?” Tristol said. “Most of that weathering isn’t real for starters. It’s all illusionary. Every window and door is covered with walls of force, and the courtyard is covered with so many interlocking wards it’s hurting my eyes to look at it.”
“To say the least.” Clueless replied. “This is… I’m not sure how we’ll get in there…”
“I wouldn’t suggest walking in the front door.” Skalliska said. “Not considering what I saw the wards do to the last people who tried to walk through it.”
“Well there’s got to be a way to dispel them and…” Nisha said.
“I don’t even know where to begin on this.” Tristol said. “And if I did, I don’t have enough magic left in my head to start.”
Before they had any further opportunity to discuss their situation however, a figure appeared in the doorway.
“Welcome. His Lordship Siddhartha has been waiting for you.”
The single figure that stood barefoot in the doorway was dressed in a fine silk sarong and vest, and held no weapons. A tiefling, Skalliska instantly recognized him as the sorcerer who had abducted her, save that his eyes appeared to have been plucked from their sockets to leave on open bloody holes in his smiling face. The man was dressed as a servant, and he seemed to be acting perfectly for the roll.
“That was the sorcerer that led the group who kidnapped me back in Sigil.” Skalliska whispered.
“What the hell happened to him?” Clueless asked in a hushed voice.
“I watched him die…” Skalliska replied.
“Waiting for us? Where is he?” Florian demanded. “It’s about time that he showed himself.”
The tiefling gestured humbly with his hands.
“There is no need to stand in the jungle and be of ill temper. My master has been waiting, and you are welcome as his guests. It would be impolite of him to allow you to stand on the doorstep when the sky threatens rain imminently.”
“You’ve –got- to be kidding me…” Toras muttered.
“Given his nature, it makes sense though.” Kiro said.
The sorcerer motioned them forwards.
“Please, the wards are not intended for you but for errant Tanar’ri or Gehreleths wandering the jungles. Impolite neighbors. Please, you are welcome and my Lord would see you comfortable, rested and well treated before he speaks with you and sees an end to this current affair.”
“Sees an end to this current affair?” Florian asked with no small measure of skepticism bordering on contempt.
The servant smiled politely. “My master is both civil and refined. He would not think of killing you when you are tired, hungry, and hardly worthy of his majesty and malign intent.”
“There’s a new one…” Fyrehowl muttered.
“Please, allow me to extend my master’s welcome to you.” The tiefling said with unnerving politeness. “Follow me, I will show you his palace within the boundaries that he has instructed me to keep, and I will have rooms prepared for your evening’s rest. As well, a meal is being prepared for you as we speak. Hopefully it will be to your liking. His lordship spares no expense.”
They looked at one another, then up to the unnaturally smiling face of the servant as a trickle of blood dripped from his hollow eye sockets and onto the ground. He didn’t seem to notice. He only smiled at them obediently as ordered, his mind screaming in ineffectual agony as the brand on his wrist compelled him to serve.
***
“How does it feel to be so alone?”
That single statement lingered on the air as Siddhartha looked down upon his victim, one of many kept hidden away in the depths of the palace. This one was special however, worth more to him than perhaps any of the others, and for good reason. His current lot in life was made worth living by virtue of his time with this single prisoner.
“What is silence like?” He continued. “Alone, disconnected, that presence that filled you, made you, it is vacant. What are you then without it? Without Him?”
The victim was silent. It had never broken under his torment, even when he had extracted bits of its brain in an attempt to rip into its memories. It would never show him weakness, even when it was in such a position of vulnerability. It would die before giving him that satisfaction, and in that alone did the creature have anything of value in his eyes. Its own position of powerlessness mirrored his in so many ways, and the pain he gave to it mirrored that which failure would bring him from his own mistress.
The victim opened a single eyelid and glanced up. Rage shined in that eye for a moment, but its body was suspended in a shaft of light whose magic prevented it from making any hostile movements. It had no hope of escape, and it was aware of this. It resisted him purely out of spite and nothing else.
The Rakshasa spat upon it as he touched a gleaming crystal to record the results of his current session of taunting, torture, and experimentation. In these moments underneath the palace, away from the sight of others, alone, he felt more like himself. But that was to change soon. He already saw it in the minds of his servants: the kobold’s companions had finally arrived. And what was more, they had brought her with them.
“They will be comforted, given rest, given food.” Siddhartha whispered with a smile. “They will know fear and then they will be killed. Just like all others before them. These however have purpose behind their pain.”
The subject’s eyes opened and its face broke into a wide, mocking smile.
“Does this f…”
Siddhartha slammed his fist into the fiend’s neck, leaving it gasping for air and cutting off its insult. The damage was done however. He’d heard the full question in its mind, and it was cutting. It would suffer later. It would suffer greatly for that, and simply for what it was.
The Rakshasa turned and left the room without glancing back, slamming the cell door shut. The moment he did however, the prisoner began to laugh. It was a raw, bloody sound born of scar tissue, phlegm and tar. It pained it to laugh, but it couldn’t stop, and without the object kept from it, suspended only feet away, maddeningly taunting it, it didn’t matter, nothing mattered in its absence.
“Run away Yethmiil. Run away to pay for your failure. Run away and tell your keeper. Make her happy with you once more.”
***
