Hidden Greed: Part 3 – Into the Hills
The moonless night made shadows seem larger than life along the hilltops. The flickering torchlight of Saeber in the distance provided the only illumination visible for leagues. North of the hills, the muggy scent of the Sulfurmarsh carried on the breeze. The chirping of frogs and insects buzzed around them.
After trudging through unending wetland and pools of mire that threatened to swallow whole their every step, the dense mangrove forest began to slightly thin out. In the far distance, floating, flickering lights were visible.
“That must be Calactyte’s tribe,” said Vlad.
In between the gnarled mangrove branches, the lights revealed themselves to be torches set at regular intervals, marking the edge of a settlement of sorts. Various pairs of ss’ressen guards stood roughly twenty feet from each other. Behind, the obscure shapes of structures showed the camp to in fact be a village of some kind.
Ilmarė sighed. “Yep. It’s a trap.”
“How do you know that?” asked Vlad.
“Because we’re surrounded.”
The swamp atmosphere turned abruptly dangerous; the constant buzz of mosquitoes died down, replaced by low rumblings and high-pitched staccato noises.
Kham whirled, pistols out. “That’s ss’ressen speech.”
All around them, what appeared to be the prone forms of dead logs, root clumps, or harmless alligators resting the water reveal themselves to be ambushing ss’ressen scouts.
“We will not harm you if you sssurrender immediately,” came a guttural voice.
“We want to speak to Calactyte,” said Vlad. “Is he here?”
“Follow usss.”
They ended up with an escort of warriors.
“They must have lost a lot of warriors,” said Ilmarė. “These are youth.” The few pieces of leather armor the ss’ressn wore did little to conceal the patches of dry skin that peeled off their bodies.
The mangrove forest opened into a large clearing in the midst of the swamp. Dry paths crisscrossed the clearing among canals of dark water, teeming with dead leaves, plants, and pieces of wood. Scattered around in a rough circle inside the canals were a number of huts and dwellings. They were made of wood, dried mud covered in leaves, tall grass, and rocks pressed onto the walls.
“Looks a little different than when were here last time,” observed Vlad.
The great majority of the dwellings had been destroyed; chunks of walls and roofs were missing or fell into the water.
“Pallas got to them,” said Kham. Black soot marks were clearly visible, even at night, pointing to extensive fire damage.
As the guards led them down the path towards a large, central stone structure, they caught glimpses inside of some of the destroyed huts. They were amphibian in nature; small pools that lead to underwater chambers accompanied large, dry areas.
Kham wasn’t sure if what he saw inside one of the inner house pools was a dead ss’ressen body or just floating debris. He looked away.
As they closed on the stone building, the ss’ressen numbers became apparent. The remains of the village had been turned into a military camp.
Vlad scanned the area. “Three score,” he whispered for Kham alone. “All well-armed with javelins and sword.”
Their destination lay in the middle of the village. It was a massive, two-story complex with no windows, built in a combination of rough-hewn and smooth dark-gray stone. A few adornments—coiled snakes—remained in place, though many were shattered along with the stone walls they had been carved from.
“Where was Alissstair?” asked Kham. “This was his temple.”
“Abandoned,” Ilmarė said with a mournful note in her voice, “the final death of all false gods.”
Though in better shape than the wooden dwelling, the stone structured exhibited heavy signs of damage. Large sections of stone wall were missing all around, the bulky chunks of debris laying in heaps on the floor.
“What force struck here?” Kham asked out loud. “The Milandisian don’t have this much firepower, do they?”
Dark, sooty marks spoke of more fire damage. The faint smell of smoke and burnt flesh still lingered in the air.
Vlad shook his head. “They would have used it when the ss’ressen invaded. Someone else did this.”
“Someone with access to a lot of blackpowder,” said Kham.
They entered the broken temple. It was a barren area, as large as the building, filled with armed ss’ressen congregated in small groups. An enormous red brick furnace three times a man’s width stood in the middle of the room dead, its embers gone.
A group of five ss’ressen stood discussing in quick, sibilant growls. One of them stepped forward.
“Where’s Calactyte?” asked Vlad.
The ss’ressn was a tall and lithe soldier with green and black scales running down the side of his body, dressed in piecemeal leather armor with a pair of punching daggers hanging from his belt. His eyes burned bright yellow, but he exhibited the ss’ressen unnatural composure.
“He isss not here.” When the ss’ressen spoke, his snouth-like mouth barely formed the words. “You will deal with me.” The words came out in a guttural growl.
“Then who are you?” asked Kham.
“Shatterscale isss a crude approximation in your language. I am commander of thisss force.”
The ss’ressen sharp reptilian features glinted in the iridescent light. His eyes narrowed as he gazed at Vlad with suspicion.
“We will not waste your time or energy. You will tell usss who you are, where you come from, who ssent you, and who hasss the eggsss. Fail to cooperate and you may well become the firssst intended casssualtiesss in thisss ssskirmisssh.”
“What happened with your eggs?” asked Vlad.
“Do not play innocent, ape! We know full well the cowardsss who ssstole thisss village’sss eggsss came from Sssaeber. In ssspite of thisss act of aggression, we offered diplomacy and were lied to again and again.”
“Wait,” Kham said carefully. “Are you saying Saeber stole the eggs?”
“To deny your robbery of the eggsss merely insssultsss ussss further,” hissed Shatterscale.
Vlad opened his palms. “We’re just trying to understand—“
Shatterscale’s snout came within inches of Vlad’s face, squinting furiously. “Yig’sss ire will befall you!” His nostrils flared as he tried to control his temper. Vlad met his gaze unflinchingly.
After a few seconds, Shatterscale pulled back and took a few steps away. He called forth another ss’ressen.
“Krisharr!” said Kham, relieved to finally see a familiar face. “Buddy! Pal! Tell the big guy that we’re okay, will ya?”
The short ss’ressen shaman spoke to Shatterscale for a few seconds.
Shatterscale snorted. He turned again to address Vlad. “Krisharr telllsss usss you may be trussstworthy. You sssay you do not know of the stolen eggsss? We shall sssee.”
Kham rubbed his forehead. “This guy makes Cal look cuddly.”
