[Mkguild] Prepared for Sacrifice pt 13

[Radioactive Toast]

 Several times during the long, dark journey back to the surface several resident lycanthropes and mer came close to crossing their path, but the men had the good fortune of not being detected.  Zyn suspected Xayk could possibly be doing things to help their stealth along, but he of course could ascertain nothing for certain.  The mer they had just rescued seemed to have no problems floating around until they apparently hit the end of the levitation spells that had been laid out; one moment he was hovering through the air and the next he... wasn’t.  With a solid slam he splatted right onto the ground atop Parn’s foot.

 “Gotta watch out, fishboy,” Pols grumbled.

 “He couldn’t have seen that coming,” Grumiah insisted.  The mer continued to make sharp glares at the sailors.  Part of Zyn couldn’t blame the mer for viewing his rescuers with unease; to him they were a completely alien people who spoke strange and acted stranger.  If he himself were in such a position he might have acted the same way.

 The end of the levitation “lines” that had been laid out meant their liberated captive had to be carried the rest of the way up, a duty that Zyn and Grumiah ended, seeing that he objected like a woman at the wrong time of the month at the prospect of either Lum or Pols carrying him, apparently still smarting from their first words with him.  The merman wasn’t exactly light either so Zyn was quite winded by the time they all scurried past the great stone door.

 “Why are we stopping?” Parn demanded as they all took a momentary break.  “Will not those things follow us?”

 Xayk responded with a chuckle, which in his old-man guise sounded more like a long wheeze than anything else.  “I’m not thinking they’ll quite be able to.  First, the levitation enchantments ended quite a while back, and if you’ve been paying any attention to our watery friend here, you’ll see why that might give ‘em a bit of a hard time.”

 He ceased speaking, ushering in empty silence in response.  “And second?” Grumiah asked.

 The quartermaster’s question was promptly answered with a sudden whirring of air, followed by the massive door swinging closed like it were made of flimsy wood.  “Well then?” Xayk asked nonchalantly, “Are we going to just sit here or head back up and grab some grub?  Cause I’m starvin’ and Steve gets all bitchy when he gets hungry.”  For whatever reason none of them wanted to see or even contemplate a “bitchy” Steve, so Zyn and Grumiah hoisted the merman up again and carried, up... and up... and for a change up some more.  By the time they hit daylight Zyn’s legs were about to fall off, and with no more than getting Lum to help their liberated prisoner along he unceremoniously plopped to the ground.

 It wasn’t so much that it was a heavy job carrying the mer all the way up, though it was a handful, than it was that older, more chronic pains that were asserting themselves.  Balling his fist, Zyn breathed to offset the terrible discomfort in his abdomen, a clenching, tightening sensation that had more than enough force to physically knock him out.  Indeed, it had done just so in the past on numerous occasions.

 “What’s with you?” Pols asked as he saw Zyn on the ground clutching his belly.  “You go off and eat something you shouldn’t have?”  Though he was more or less civil, an aura of hostility was never far off, waiting for the slightest provocation.  Of course, the fact that the sailor was now utterly bald made his visage more or less humorous, making it easier to not be irritated by him.

 “Nothing,” he replied, “Just some stomach cramps.”

 The short, bald sailor didn’t look quite convinced, but he just grumbled something incomprehensible and went away, leaving Zyn in peace to deal with his pains.

 A good five minutes were enough for his abdomen to stop constricting.  As he hefted himself off the ground, he noticed Parn standing a good distance away, trying and failing to not look like he was gawking at Zyn, who silently chuckled to himself and approached the mage.  It wasn’t to say anything about Parn’s gawking, rather he had something different in mind..

 “When we were in the cave, could you see the levitation enchantments?”

 The mage blinked at the somewhat out of the blue question.  “What?”

 “The levitation spell,” Zyn repeated, “the one that the whole cave was filled with; could you detect it?”

 “Well,” Parn said, pondering the query.  “I did somewhat; there were difficulties separating it from the surrounding energies, but-“

 Zyn held his hand up to stop the mage before he really started to ramble.  “So you [i]can[/i] detect enchantments?”

 “Er... Mage sight is not something I’ve especially studied, but if I am concentrating hard enough,” he paused catching himself rambling again.  “Basically,” he shrugged.

 “Good,” Zyn declared.  “Have you noticed if there are any other magic lines about, especially on the surface?”

 “I have noticed some things, but it is all very... strange.  I cannot fathom most of it.  I suppose Xayk may have laid down spells during his exile here, but...”  He eyed Zyn somewhat worriedly.  “What are you suggesting?”

 “Nothing,” Zyn assured him, not wanting to mage to fret and freak out.  “Just... keep an eye out for anything suspicious, especially if it looks new.”  He started to turn away before a thought bubbled up in his mind.  “While you’re at it, check the campsite; see if there’s anything residual from his little... exploration into being a barber.  He had to have used some kind of magic to do what he did without waking any of us.”  Parn felt his own head at the reminder, his own Mohawk prominently serving to reinforce the dragon’s unpredictable qualities.

 Deciding to catch up with the others and their emancipated prisoner, Zyn headed off toward the beach where he presumed they had taken the mer so he could get wet again or somesuch; he had to be more in his element in water, right?  Turned out they had made a beeline right for the closest strip of beach and were all congregated around their guest like bunch of children crowding around a storyteller.

 The merman seemed more interested in relaxing than talking however, feasting on a freshly caught crab, raw of course, lounging in the shallow water as the waves lazily coaxed him up and down.

 “Well this is just obscene,” Zyn complained to Lorian as he approached.  “Tell me he caught that caught that crab himself,” referring of course to the fiendishly horrible luck the cast aways had had capturing the devilish crustaceans the last several days.

 “Calm yourself lad,” Lorian said.  “Being an underwater being makes it just a tad easier to catch things that live underwater, no?” he said with the barest hint of a sardonic smile.

 Grumiah apparently decided that their guest had had enough time to get over his captivity to stretch his limbs.  “So, now that we’ve saved your hide, you mind telling us your name?”

 The smooth skinned being regarded the quartermaster curiously, though he wasn’t apparently still completely over his ordeal.  In contrast to the stories about these underwater people, the merman in front of them wasn’t quite a simply a man’s upper half with a fishy, scaled and fluked tail.  In fact, as they had also seen in the other mers in the cave, his skin more had a light rubbery look to it, not unlike that of a dolphin, with huge bulbous eyes that gave the face a somewhat disconcerting appearance

 “My name is Sreenii...” his high, airy voice started but trailed off, casting his strange gaze upon them all one by one, and the finally on the water as it lapped upon him.  “You have my thanks for freeing me,” he said at long last.  “Had I remained their captive, I would have met a most grisly fate.”

 “So we surmised,” Lorian spoke up.  “So then, just who are ‘they?’  We saw several lycanthropes and normal members of your kind, working side by side.  Needless to say we are all quite confused, and we would appreciate it if you could shed some light on the situation,” he said diplomatically.

 “Evil.”

 “Pardon?” Grumiah asked.

 “There is a simple reason why those two groups tolerate each other.  As you seemingly know most of my kind hate and despise those who would let themselves be touched by such an abomination as ‘lycanthropy,’ as you call it.  Even the fringiest pods of my people shun them.”

 “Would this be... an extreme group, or pod, we’re talking about?” Zyn asked.

 “Quite,” Sreenii replied.  “Though they only consort with the wereorcas in their common worship.”

 “And they’re worshipping something... bad down there, I take it,” Zyn surmised.

 Sreenii’s face contorted in a grimace.  “More vile than you can imagine.  I could not see much for myself, for obvious reasons,” he said as he rubbed his wrist which undoubtedly still ached from the chains that had only an hour ago held him fast.  “But I could smell deadra summoning in the air, and other foul echoes I could not identify.”

 “Oh that’s just wonderful,” Pols grumbled.  “Devils; what else are we gonna run into on this crazy-as-hell island.”

 “And whatever they’re worshipping, they’re using human... er... sentient sacrifices to do it,” Lum observed.

 Sreenii glumly nodded.  “Yailea, my... you would call him an oath brother in your tongue.  Several days ago we were captured; I have not seen him for some time.”  The mer shook his head, apparently trying to shake off his feelings with it.  “There have been stories, rumors among the seas that this island is tainted, home to evil, but we did not think we were that close when they came and overpowered us.  At first we confused by the sight of untainted Maeril swimming in tandem with wereorcas, and they used that confusion to their advantage.”

 “Well they certainly have no love for each other,” Lorian commented.  “Those priests who were hovering over you were quite agitated by the other’s presence.”

 “To be united by hatred is... a fragile alliance at best.”

 Unprepared for the sudden and booming draconic voice, Zyn and the others snapped around to see the dragon calmly setting on his haunches, back in his normal form, and still sporting the wig made of Pols’ hair.  How was he so quiet?

 To Sreenii, of course, the sudden appearance of a dragon was a completely new and unexpected complication, and he recoiled accordingly a few inches back in the shallow water.

 “Ugh, damnit,” Lum cursed, “Do you [i]have[/i] to keep scaring the crap out of us?”

 “Of course I do!” the dragon insisted.  “You should always be on your guard for the unexpected moments in life, like what I’m about to do right [i]now[/i]!

 Immediately the entire group tensed and felt the urge to almost faint, waiting for whatever spontaneous act of insanity the dragon was about to unleash upon them.  As they froze like statues for so long their muscles started to cramp and belated realization came that they needed to breath; they also belatedly realized nothing actually happened.

 “...Wait,” Lum said at last, “What did... did you do anything?”

 “Of course!” Xayk pointed out, “I sat here breathing and looking at you in a slightly odd way!  You have to be ready for stuff like that!”

 The men, and the merman, looked a confused and totally noncomprehending fashion.  “What’s that-“ Grumiah began.

 In that very instant Xayk rushed forward, right at Zyn.  He barely had time to widen his eyes before the dragon launched his muzzle right into his face... and kissed him.  The giant reptile’s mouth was so large that the smooch cusped almost the entirety of Zyn’s face up to just below the eyes; his skin felt like it was being wrenched off at the suction.  The scaly texture of the lips caused panic to burst for a moment, awakening a primal urge to shriek in terror and flee, not that he could do any such thing as the dragon held him in place, his giant taloned hands holding him by the shoulders.  In his complete inability to struggle, Zyn frantically repeated through his mind that Xayk was a dragon; he was a creature that had very distinct limbs and did not crawl across the earth on his belly.  After a terribly, agonizingly, arduously long moment, Xayk released, snapping Zyn’s neck back, a motion that was accompanied by a heaping helping of the dragon’s spittle and the most horrible breath he had ever encountered.

 Gagging ferociously and smattering his face like a poison had been splashed on it, Zyn’s balance collapsed and he with it in the aftermath of the dragon’s sudden and bizarre act.  “What was that?” he coughed.

 “Aw, can’t we give the cute wittle human a cute wittle kissy?” Xayk replied as if he were baby talking a puppy.

 “You...” Sreenii said with some measure of awe.  “You are that dragon-“

 “That dragon that eats purple children of flamboyant consumers of mass quantities of cake?” Xayk finished for the mer with an excited glint in his eye.  Sreenii just mouthed wordlessly in stupefied reply.

 “What dragon?” Grumiah said.  “Have you heard something about a dragon living here?”

 “Just...” Sreenii mouthed, unable to take his utterly bewildered gaze off Xayk.  “There was a dragon that invoked the wind god Dvalin’s wrath; there were stories that he was exiled in this part of the sea.”

 “Those rumors are of being the true type,” Xayk smiled using what had to be deliberately botched grammar.  “I be here.”

 “He, uh, apparently banged some chick this Dvalin was hot on,” Grumiah explained.  Sreenii could only stare in yet more bewildered shock.

 “I... see,” The mer said as he attempted to digest what he had just been told.

 “Whatever he did,” Pols complained, “We got shipwrecked on this island and now we’re all stuck here along with him.”

 “Is there some reason you... slept with this woman that Dvalin had claimed?  Did he not announce his intentions?” Sreenii asked.

 “Of course he did!” Xayk exclaimed.  “He’s always like that, going around strutting his masculinity like it was a third leg.  He went and made this big [i]huuuuge[/i] fuss, so naturally I had to do something about it!”

 Sreenii just stared.  “Are you mad?”

 “Most absolutely definitely!” the dragon declared with a grin.  “Madness never hurt anyone!  Well, maybe a few people, but they got over it.  Except for maybe the ones who didn’t get over it.”

 “I... see,” the merman said profoundly.  Turning to the men, he said, “I hope none of you are specific disciples of the wind god.”

 “Uh, no, we’re all Followers,” Grumiah explained.

 Upon this declaration the mer cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, albeit more in confused than anything else.  “I have heard of this term, but I must admit I do not fully understand it.  You are different from those who worship those who call themselves Gods of Light, yet you do not worship the Lords of Darkness either.  Which gods exactly do you serve?”

 “Eli, of course,” Lum said as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe.

 Somehow unsurprisingly, Sreenii did not quite comprehend.  “I have not heard of that name before.  Is it a name for one of the other gods?  Or is it an altogether deity that is worshipped as on other continents?”

 Though his confusion was no doubt natural, his ignorant stumblings made some inadvertent but rather crude insinuations.  Pols, of course, was irked by them instantly.  “We worship the Creator, fishboy.  You know, the big guy who made everything?  Not some pretend false gods of wind that some hacks conjured up.”  Zyn couldn’t help but grimace at the stark feather-ruffling indictment, even if he sympathized with it somewhat.

 The appellate “false gods” of course was less than complimenting to the merman who took it with sparks of fire in his large eyes and bristling.  “As I told you before, I am no ‘fishboy.’  I am a Maeril, and my Lord Wvelkim is as real as you or I.  Every day he leads and cares for my people.  How could it be possible to deny his existence, or that of any of the other members of the Pantheon?”

 [i]Oh boy[/i], Zyn thought, rubbing his forehead as if that would lessen his grief at hearing this argument.  He had met few Lightbringers his lifetime, but he had had this very argument himself with those few individuals, and each time it proved merely agitating and fruitless as no one had walked away convinced of any merits of the other side.

 “’Cause people, mer apparently included, love to make stuff up,” Lum interjected.  “No one on their own seems to want to admit that Eli the original Creator’s still up there guiding things,” the sailor said with conviction, displaying a religious passion Zyn found somewhat surprising.  

 Sreenii shock his head disbelievingly. “What are you ‘Followers’ taught growing up?  The essence that created the world expended itself in the [i]act[/i] of creation.  How could it have continuing power, much less influence in the world?”

 “’He’,” Zyn suddenly found himself interjecting with ire.  “’He,’ not ‘it.’ I can tell you with certainty that Eli’s as real as you or I, and everyday he cares for not just men, but everything in the world.”  

 If the merman was taken aback by Zyn’s reversal of his own words and example, he didn’t show it.  “Then where is the power of the still present Creator?  Wvelkim has power, I have seen it myself.”

 “I’ve got power too,” Zyn shot back, “I’ve got power to move my own legs or smash a rock.  If I had a sword I could threaten people to do what I want.  That doesn’t make me a god.”

 Sreenii, predictably, was unconvinced.  “It is not merely power, it is righteousness.  The Sea Lord and those like him have the forces of the world at their disposal, to act as-“

 “They see fit?” Zyn interrupted.

 The merman ignored him.  “-as the forces they represent are naturally inclined to follow.  It-”

 “And what if that those forces are messed up or fallible to begin with?  Blind men don’t make good guides?”

 Bristling with indignation, Sreenii stared Zyn down.  “Everyone is colored somewhat by the world they live in.  There is no one who acts beyond the forces that compel them.”

 “What kinda shit are you talking about?” Pols demanded but Zyn cut his hand through the air in a swift and forceful motion to cut the sailor off.  If he wasn’t quick or smart enough to keep up with the conversation then he shouldn’t take part.

 “Well, that’s the whole point of Eli guiding things,” Zyn said softly but with constrained, flaring anger.  “Who better to watch over all us fallible little beings than the omnipotent being who made us all in the first place?”

 “What is the point of having an omnipotent infallible being to guide the world if that world is fallible itself?  Should not a god that is all powerful create a world that has no complications?  My god looks after is in the here, and in the [i]now[/i], not in some vague otherworldly manner.”

 “Hey, look fishboy,” Lum angrily cut back in. “You tell us this much; if your Wvelkim really is so powerful and so ‘godlike,’” he used the term mockingly, “and in the here and now, then tell me why he can’t save your shiny little ass when you get captured by demon worshippers?”

 “I can tell you this much,” Sreenii said with insufferable smugness, “The lack of devotion to real gods among you Followers explains why I hardly hear of your kind at sea.  The people of Wales and Sathmore give Wvelkim, the lord of the sea, and all the gods, devotion and reverence.  I see the lack of devotion among your people is why they make such poor sailors who apparently are too busy shipwrecking on remote islands to actually sail the seas.”

 Such an insult sent all three of the sailors shouting at once at the mer who stared back defiantly.  As he looked them over his turned his gaze back to Zyn, who stared back with equal determination, doing his best to keep from escalating the situation with blows, although he was seriously wondering why he should bother refraining.

 The dispute would have devolved just so had not Lorian interposed himself between them and held up his one hand.  “Enough,” he declared simply and forcefully.  “None of this is productive in the slightest way other than to vent a heaping helping of hot air.”  With that sharp, paternal indictment, the sailors, Zyn, and Sreenii shut their mouths.

 “Aw, why’d you have to stop?” Xayk whined like a disappointed child in the background.  “It was just starting to get interesting,” he sat down and pouted.  “You know, a few fists thrown, an arm or two ripped off, maybe some evisceration; who knows, perhaps even some skull-fucking afterwards.”

 All the fight was suddenly sapped out of them in a way that not even Lorian could have hoped to match as they all fidgeted uncomfortably and somewhat... disturbed.

 Sreenii eyed Xayk, again totally taken aback, but as he stared this time an idea seemed to go off in the back of his head.  “You are here, trapped on this island because this... dragon,” he said at last, obviously considering a different, perhaps slightly more insane word, “has been exiled and cannot leave.”

 “You have a point, or do you just enjoy stating the painfully obvious?”  Zyn asked.

 “I have a point,” Sreenii said irately, which with his thin high pitched voice sounded almost comical, “And it could involve a way off this island for you.”

 Instantly the merman had their attention.  “You’re offering what?” Grumiah asked.

 “I could have Wvelkim appealed to by my people to act on your behalf to the wind god Dvalin, ensuring the dragon...” he stopped at the mention of the beast again, unable to resist casting a wary, anxious glance at Xayk’s direction, “that the dragon can fly you all to the mainland unmolested.”

 [i]Who said that Xayk[/i] wouldn’t[i] at some point molest us?[/i] Zyn wondered.  But he also knew that Sreenii wasn’t going to just offer something that good out of the goodness of his heart, especially after the heated exchange that had just occurred.  “And in return?”

 “The dark caverns below, as you have seen, are infested by a great evil.  But it is principally based upon the sacrifice of sentients that it all is empowered; through a crystal, which you no doubt saw taken from the altar just before you unchained me,” the mer said, trying to momentarily forget his pride being wounded at being rescued by the men.  “This crystal is the key to all their vile work.  Destroy this, and you will have done Wvelkim’s people a great service, a service that would not go unnoticed.”

 It was a bold offer, to be sure.  It all sounded of an arrogance so forceful it had to be based on the power of a most powerful (and legitimate) winning hand, or it was conceived in excessively foolish hubris.  The merman that sat on the beach in front of them certainly looked smug, and from his offer he seemed to have just such a winning hand.  No doubt Sreenii was deriving a great deal of satisfaction for laying out their fate before them to chose.  The one real question was whether it was genuine.

 “Excuse us for a moment,” Lorian said, his face unflinchingly neutral.  With that he gestured with his one hand for them all to gather in a circle.  
 
 “Can he really promise that much?” Zyn laid out the most important question.

 Pols was obviously convinced of the negative, and still smarting from the argument.  “Fishy little pagan’s just trying to get us killed,” he whispered harshly.  “There’s no way after we made off with the demon worshipers’ next intended victim that they ain’t going to be prepared down there.”

 Probably,” Lum said, stroking his beard, “probably, but we gotta ask ourselves; are we just gonna lie down and spend the rest of our lives on this shithole island?  Sorry, but I ain’t voting for that?”
 
 “Oh yeah?” Pols challenged.  “And he’s just going to go run off to his people to appeal to one made-up god to appeal to another made-up god to call off this curse that the dragon’s found himself with?”

 “How do you think Xayk got exiled here in the first place, Pols,” Grumiah challenged back.  The bald midget shut his mouth, but it was clear he didn’t like the concept of having to accept even the existence of the beings that called themselves gods.  

 To the right Parn spoke up surprising Zyn who hadn’t seen him approach; the last he had seen of the mage was minutes ago when the two of them had their conversation about enchantments.  He must have shown up in the middle of the argument when they were all too busy to notice.  “But they must know of our presence; they could be waiting for us to go through that door.”

 “It is desperate,” Lorian said, “full of danger, but consider our total and utter lack of a better alternative... unless you wish to ask Xayk if he has another idea of course.”  Pols obviously wanted to reply, but his complete baldness even now served as a reminded of the dragon’s unpredictability.

 “Well when you put it that way...” Grumiah said, staring off into the sea.  “We can’t stay here, that’s for sure, so I say we go for it.”

 It did seem that they had no real choice to Zyn too, but to give in to that smug mer...  “We could be walking right into a hornet’s nest in there,” he said.

 “Hornets taste delicious with soy sauce,” Xayk declared, interjecting his long neck and head right into the circle.

 Jumping, Grumiah shook his head.  “Fine, I’d assume you’d do anything that would help yourself get off this island.  How much can you do to help us?”

 “Nothing,” the dragon replied.  “And everything.”  Zyn raised an eyebrow to the dragon’s cryptic remark.  Usually he was silly or nonsensical, if terrifyingly unpredictable; how smart was this dragon really?  “But, all things considered, I’d really like some variety in my diet, and you guys are too much fun to eat!  Yet.” he said with an innocent grin.

 “Hey,” Lum said, “this [i]is[/i] your mess, you could take care of those demon-worshipping beasts licitly-split just by yourself, right?”

 Xayk frowned.  “But that wouldn’t be any fun!  I can’t make all the world’s problems go away by myself, that’d be cheating and boring!”  Great, this dragon loved to make things difficult.  “But, I [i]do[/i] wanna see the Lypomese islands at some point, that’s what I came out into the middle of the ocean in the first place for,” he leveled his gaze with the men in a clear message.  What this dragon plotted in his crazy mind was indiscernible, but one just couldn’t argue with him if he set his mind to something.

 In the end, though, the men agreed, over Pols’ objections of course, to go ahead.

 A one man, or rather one dragon, party promptly ensued as Xayk spontaneously hollered and swept his massive wings out.  With a great burst of wind his huge form lifted itself into the air and began cavorting about recklessly, performing all kinds of complex, improbable aerial maneuvers that by all accounts should have sent him pummeling into the sand.  By some strange quirk of fate, however, the air continued to keep him aloft.

 “Now how does he not just plummet right into the ground?” Lum wondered aloud as Xayk literally coasted along his back in a most ungraceful fashion through the air.

 By some twisted luck, the dragon’s ears, even as they were barreling through howling upper level winds, caught the human’s musing.  “Because I’m so stupid I forgot about gravity!  It’s easy!”

 Having heard such talk over the past few days more than once, Zyn and the others more or less accepted it as normal for the dragon, though they were no less creeped out by it.  Sreenii predictably, was less than accustomed to it.  “I find it hard to believe that there is such a thing as a dragon who has no dignity,” he said has he watched the dragon carelessly collide with the tops of the trees.

 Xayk, however, seemed to have the best ears in the world as he snapped his whole body around instantaneously, spun about and landed with thud right smack in front of the shocked merman.  “Of course I have pride you silly aquatic dolphin person type thing!  I’ll have you know I’m quite accomplished in many areas; why I’m probably the world’s king of yodeling, binge drinking and flatulence!”

 “Wait,” Zyn said with some nervousness, “what was that last-“   He couldn’t continue that statement the same as he could not breathe, for at that moment something ungodly [i]awful[/i] penetrated his nostrils.  “Oh god!” he gagged and ran for the water.  The others had no time to gawk or laugh as soon they too were engulfed in the hellishly pungent odor that burned their noses and made their eyes water profusely.  Sreenii, being a mer had it easy for when the horrible stench assaulted him he, after momentarily gagging, flipped himself over and shoved himself completely under the water.  Even though the men lacked the critical attribute of being able to breathe underwater, they could at least hold their breath as they dunked themselves under to escape the stinging, burning fumes, much to the squealing delight of a certain flying reptile.
 		 	   		  

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