Chapter 14 - Part 9

The middle of the night was approaching, judging by the two moons that Iron Orphan could see overhead. There were six torches set out in a rough circle around their campsite, enough to give him some light to see by. He relied on his ears more than his eyes, of course. He heard the light breathing of the horses, and the soft snoring of Thomas and Delegado. Beyond that only the crackle of flame and the buzzing of insects could be heard. A tremendous sense of peace and quiet filled the air.

Orphan liked this time of night. Even though it was tactically his weakest position, spiritually it was the most wonderful experience. The past several evenings had been wonderful. Just the sky, the trees, the stars, and the peaceful sleep of his comrades.

Perhaps I will stay in the Reaches rather than adventure with Tharashk, once this quest is done, the warforged thought. Perhaps I can gain some students here. Maybe even other warforged. Perhaps the word ‘lawforged’ will become common.

Delegado snorted and turned over. On the branch above him, Feather shifted in response to Delegado’s mood, but the hawk did not wake up either.

Orphan looked up at the stars now, trying to see the constellations. Delegado had said that one could figure out where they were on the planet by studying the constellations, as they always stayed in a fixed pattern. Orphan wondered if the stars were alive, in a way. Perhaps they did not like the names that they were given, and had made their own names like he had.

He suddenly heard the scratching of scales on grass. It was very, very soft, but when he heard it, the animal and insect noises ceased. He cocked his head, and flexed his knee joints. Something was out there. Something big.

He waited, affecting not to hear it. It was probably a large animal of some sort. He revised that thought a moment later when he realized that it was coming closer, approaching carefully.

The wind shifted, and the pegasi stirred in their sleep. Orphan tested the air, but his dim olfactory impressions told him nothing. The wind shifted back, and the winged horses calmed down.

Something hungry is out there, the warforged thought, walking to a spot in between the horses and the thing that he heard. The movement stopped.

Orphan felt a crawling sensation in his mind. Something was trying to find a way in, trying to seek him out. He easily hardened his mind with a Balanced Palm meditative technique, casting the prying thing away roughly.

“What are you?” a hissing voice called. It was from the direction of the noises. The scale rustling grew again, coming closer to him. “You do not smell of food.”

“What are you?” Orphan asked, his hand dipping into his sash. He had his shiruken ready.

“I am newflesh,” the voice hissed. “I am the creation of the master shapers beneath the earth.”

“The daelkyr,” Orphan said.

“Do not speak their name in vain,” the voice snarled. “They are sacred.”

“Right,” Orphan said. “One of their children sleeps near me.”

A pause. “You have newflesh in your group?” The voice did not believe him, but it seemed afraid of being wrong.

“Can you read sleeping minds as well?” Orphan asked wryly. He was only guessing what that mental prying had been, but he was pretty sure he was right. “Can your ability to do so reach the symbiont attached to his neck?”

“I do not want to get that close yet,” the voice said. Another pause. “I only want a horse. They are tasty. Surely you can spare one.”

“Even if we could, we will not,” Orphan said. “I warn you, do not try to battle us. My companions can see in the dark, and their weapons are powerful.”

“My spells can blast them to pieces,” the voice said. Orphan was beginning to realize that the voice had feminine aspects. “Maybe I will hold my spells if I am sated with horse.”

“You would cast a spell of damage at a half-daelkyr spawn?” Orphan asked. He was not very good at acting, but the creature’s fear made it gullible. “I find it hard to believe you would risk such retribution.”

“I am hungry,” it said. “And I suspect that you lie. Let me approach unharmed to read the symbiont’s mind. Do not draw your little scythe.”

“You may, and I will not, but then pull back,” Orphan said. He heard the scales again, drawing closer. The creature was about ten or fifteen feet from him when it paused. He peered carefully. He could see nothing.

“Ah,” the voice said, sounding as if the creature were nearby. “A stormstalk. You did not lie. Do you serve the lords of newflesh? Is that the meaning of your strange appearance?”

Orphan thought about Delegado’s tale of the bugbear and the flowers. He examined the grass in front of him. From what little he could see in the dim torchlight, an area about ten to twelve feet from him was largely crushed grass. Grass that had been waving about a half-hour ago. Invisible, he thought. “Let me see your appearance, and we shall judge who is strange,” he said carefully.

“You think I am that foolish?” sneered the voice. “You think I believe your lies?”

Orphan threw the shiruken suddenly, and ran forward. Two flew through the night harmlessly, but one sank into something, and a trickle of blood appeared in mid-air. The warforged tried yelling out to his companions, but he found that all sound had stopped.

Suddenly a creature appeared, its protective invisibility disappearing as a ray sprang from its form. It was a huge, eel-like thing, maybe ten feet long even partially coiled. Its flesh was an abnormal purple sheen, and it was covered in fine scales. The head was like a fish’s in shape, but like a human’s in visage. There was a thick stinger on its tail, and a mouth full of sharp teeth.

The ray tagged Orphan right in the chest. He felt strength leave his limbs. The ray seemed to make him feeble, less powerful. The snakey-thing laughed quietly, its silence keeping its mockery from Orphan’s hearing.

Undaunted, the warforged landed a flying kick at the thing. The eel or snake or whatever it was moved quickly, turning to the side so that his weakened kick glancing off the thick muscles, doing no damage. Then it stabbed down with its tail and teeth. Orphan dodged both, but the tail only just so.

Focusing carefully, Orphan punched the thing, cracking some scales and making it writhe in pain. The warforged then somersaulted away, easily avoiding another tail stab. He kept trying to yell, and as he passed twenty feet from a small, carefully carved rock in front of the snake-thing, sound suddenly came back.

“Delegado! Thomas! Wake up!” he yelled. The pegasi awoke as well, and on seeing the thing that the warfoged fought, began to snort and whinny.

The thing slithered forward quickly, its bulk crushing the stone. The silence effect vanished, and the creature then chanted words of magic. A bolt of lightning shot forward. Orphan dodged it easily, and it split a tree some thirty feet behind him.

The half-orc rolled to his feet with his bow in his hand. Even as Orphan tumbled sideways and drank a lesser restoration potion to offset the weakening ray, Delegado had two arrows fitted to the string at once. Both hit and the snake thing cried in real pain. It snarled and stabbed its stinger at Orphan, but to no avail.

Thomas stood, gripping his greataxe. The half-daelkyr was a bit confused, but his symbiont was not. The snake thing was just at the edge of its range, but the electricity bit harshly into it nonetheless.

“Gah!” the snake-thing spat. “Betrayer of newflesh! Your treachery is noted!” It concentrated, attempting to cast another spell, but its pain from its wounds was too jolting.

“Beware,” Orphan called, hurling more shiruken. One managed to hit the creature above the eye. “It can turn invisible!”

“Dark naga!” Delegado yelled. “You find interesting friends, Orphan!” He put two more arrows into the thing, making it snarl.

The naga turned and tore away, moving quickly through the forest. Orphan began to give chase, but then paused. He could not see the ground. Thomas had no such problem, for he and Delegado shared their darkvision. But Thomas could not move fast enough to catch the naga, nor could Delegado. “Cast a light spell on me!” Orphan yelled to the half-daelkyr.

Thomas nodded, grabbing a small scroll and reading it quickly. The scroll consumed itself as its magical energy was spent, and a finger tap on Orphan’s chest made him glow as bright as a torch. A second later the fleet-footed monk was running through the forest, following the thrashing sounds of the panicked and wounded naga.

Soon the naga came into view, and the startled creature turned its head to see the warforged monk easily overtaking it. “You!” it snarled. It chanted, and four magical darts shot from its forked tongue, slapping into Orphan’s body, stinging him.

He did not let it slow him down. He rolled and jumped, and landed on the thing’s back, punching down hard at its spine. It howled and twisted, and its stinger pierced his side, pumping thick poison into him.

Poison that pooled, dribbled out, and did nothing. Poison did not affect the warforged.

Orphan jumped and tumbled around in front of the creature, kicking and punching. He had to keep hurting the creature, keep distracting it so that it would not be able to use its spells. Unnatural skin split, white bruises formed on purple skin, and bones cracked. The naga tried to stab him again, but it was slower than it had been before, as if an enchantment increasing its reflexes had worn off. Orphan ducked, dodged, then came up with a two-fisted shot to the neck.

Choking and gurgling the naga fell over, still trying to cast a spell. Orphan paused, wondering if he should show mercy. The warforged began to hammer the creature’s head and neck in a way calculated to knock it unconscious, not kill it. After repeated hammerings, the thing flopped over, and except for shallow breathing, it did not move.

Orphan stood over it, his fists ready to strike. It was helpless. Am I a murderer if I do this?

Delegado came into view, holding his longbow. “You leave an easy trail,” he said, not even breathing hard from his run. He squinted at the dark nagae. “It’s alive? Why?”

“I wasn’t sure if I should kill it,” Orphan said.

“Why not?” Delegado asked. He sighted an arrow at the thing’s mid-section.

“It was just hungry,” Orphan said. “I just, I don’t know, maybe it can be taught not to…” His voice trailed off.

“You the same guy I saw snapping a bunch of goblin necks on the other side of the continent?” the half-orc frowned. He put his bow and arrow away, but pulled his sword out.

“Is it really evil?” Orphan asked. “Or is it like the warforged, just raised a certain way?”

Delegado raised the sword and gave a mighty slash. The adamantine cut the creature in half. Abnormally colored blood gushed as the thing flapped and died.

The half-orc stepped back from the corpse, watching its death throes. He then walked up towards the head. “Dark nagas are experiments on dragon flesh that the daelkyr did, they do nothing but kill and slaughter.” He began to hew at the creature’s head. “They’re clever enough to use their magic to sneak about, and sometimes they just pick on isolated farms. If I spent the time tracing this thing’s tracks back to its lair I bet we’d find one big pile of bones from its victims.” He finally severed the head.

Orphan picked the head up, staring into its dead eyes. “Is the answer to every evil to eradicate it?”

“Yes,” Delegado said. “The problem is not eradicating evil, Orphan, it’s finding evil. There’s a lot of folk who think things are evil that aren’t, and the other way around too.” He wiped his sword carefully. “Bring the head. If the pegasi will carry it, it’s something to show the Wardens of the Wood. I bet they’ve wanted that thing for a while.”

Orphan carried the head as he walked behind the half-orc. It was the casualness of the matter that disturbed him more than anything else. As they got back to the campsite, he wondered why there was so much strife in the world.