Cow Face
One Heck of a Guy
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Firstly, this is the sequel to The Creation of Half-Drakel Warrior, my first work on these forums. I have attempted to make it to where you do not have to have read the first, but I strongly suggest that you do. Use Control+F to find chapters!
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 1
Bang! Bang! Bang! Apparently, someone was at the door. This mysterious Someone had quite a bit of nerve. Someone had the gall to intrude upon the one of the greatest pastimes available on Lore:
Sleep.
In this particular case, the sleeper in question was Adam, known as Half-Drakel Warrior to those not personally acquainted with him. To be more specific, he was known as Half-Drakel Warrior to those that were not of the Drakel race. Inhabitants of Lore or those who have read the previous manuscript recording Adam’s adventures will know of this race. However, for the sake of those who have not encountered this interesting species, they will be described.
The Drakel are a reptilian race, very muscular and tall. They are covered from head to toe in green scales, and have yellow spines running down their back and head. Eye color varies depending on the individual’s occupation; warriors generally have yellow eyes, whereas those individuals which have broken Drakel law and taken an elemental side will have an eye color to match that element (i.e. Drakel Water Mages will have blue eyes, whereas a Drakel Infernomancer would have red.) Males wore some simple cloth shorts, usually brown, but differing occasionally, and females wore a bustier of types made of the same material.
For those whom have just begun exploring Adam’s (or Half Drakel Warrior’s) life, or those whom have begun to forget what happened, the change to a half-Drakel will also be described. During a battle which took place six weeks before the beginning of this tale, Adam was Human. He had been stabbed by a spear containing the Drakstone, a magical gem that has the ability to transform the user into a Drakel. The head had been buried deep, and broken off when the enemy tried to retrieve it. After a brief, bloody end to the battle, Adam had emerged victorious, his enemy’s corpse left inside a forgotten cave.
On a side note, Adam never actually saw the stranger’s face. His main concern after the battle was staying alive, and getting back to his allies, who had been trapped outside of the cavern. They carried him to the magiscientists’ laboratory, but were unsuccessful in retrieving the spearhead. Thus, Adam was forced to carry it with him thenceforth, but was given the ability to change between the forms of Human, Drakel, and somewhere in-between. Generally, he remained in Drakel form when in the K’eld (Drakel settlement), but was Human or the half-Drakel when in a different town.
When Human, Adam had red hair, tanned skin, green eyes, and stood at about six feet and two inches. In his Drakel form, he was- of course- green-scaled, yellow eyed, and was around seven feet tall, the normal height for a Drakel. The main distinguishing point in his appearance from other Drakel was that his spines had a somewhat reddish tinge, making them a yellow-orange. Also, he was missing a scale right above where the wound had taken place. Behind that gap was a small patch of skin, originally pink, but it glowed with a soft blue light since the wound.
Adam had married when he became a half-Drakel, his choice being one of the first Drakel he had seen when he arrived on Lore, a woman named Ra’tane. As it happened, she was also asleep at the moment of the banging, but she had not woken up. Luckily for the Someone, Adam had been in a good mood. If he had not been, Someone would have been met with a torrent of insults. Instead, Someone was going to be met with a slightly less bitter torrent of insults. That was just Adam’s way.
Large, scaly, clawed feet pounded their way across the floor, the owner of the feet stumbling drowsily across the room. Adam wrenched the door open, saw that he didn’t recognize the poor young Drakel who had been sent, and proceeded to insult him merrily. “Look here, you scrawny, thick-skulled little moron! I was taking a very nice nap, when you, O Sleep Invader, decided to come and try to pound down my door. I don’t really appreciate that, so do you have a good reason to come around, trying to knock people’s doors over?”
The unfortunate little Drakel had been holding his ground before the onslaught of deprecations, but he had been warned about Adam’s behavior. He knew that Adam didn’t really mean it, he just liked to jaw, especially to the younger Drakel, and so he was able to keep a straight face. “Your father-in-law sent me, Adam. You’re s’pposed to go see him.”
Adam groaned, thanked the young Drakel, and headed back inside. He scrawled a note to Ra’tane, grabbed a pouch of gold, and headed outside after giving a few gold to the young messenger. It seemed that business as usual was going to be needed.
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 2
Adam pounded his way across the sidewalk, rather irked at S'larth. S'larth was, of course, his father-in-law, and therefore the one who had summoned him. Would the infernal Drakel ever cease to disturb Adam's sleep?
S'larth was the Drakel whom had been the leader when Adam came from Earth. However, soon after Adam was wed to his daughter, he retired and chose a successor. He had been rather old already, but his daughter's marriage gave him sufficient reason to retire a bit early. He now contented himself by bugging his new son-in-law from time to time. In a friendly fashion, of course.
So, Adam must be forgiven if he was a bit suspicious about what the reason for his summons was. Would this be another trick, like when S'larth summoned him just to ask him about curtains? "Old man's going senile," Adam growled. "And the curtains clashed with the metal." He was, of course, referring to the metal city of the Drakel. Ironically, the Drakel referred to their dwellings as "tents." Now, he was headed toward S'larth's tent, the one which the old Drakel had moved into after he resigned.
When he arrived, he took a moment to gaze at the gleaming building. Though it was not nearly as large as the tent of the Drakel leader, it was still moderately large. It shone with the morning sun, but the magiscientists had engineered it to where it was only faintly warm; Lore recieved hot summers. Resting his hand fondly on the doorframe, he stepped inside. The smell of cooked meat wafted past him, and he grinned slightly. "Been cooking?" he called out. "Or did you stick your tail in the fireplace again?"
The grinning countenance of S'larth greeted him, and the Drakel said, "Don't talk to your father that way." The scaly creature laughed, and stepped forward to give Adam a chunk of beef, which was accepted gratefully. "However," said the old Drakel, sobering, "we have important things to discuss. Sit."
Adam sat, and spoke around a mouthful of food. "Whassa problem?" He swallowed, and then spoke in a way which was easier to understand. "What's up? Do you need your personal troubleshooter to fix something?" He had become a troubleshooter of sorts- if there was trouble, he'd shoot it. Or slice it to pieces, whichever he felt was more apt.
"Yes. I'll make this as quick as possible, there are people waiting. You're a Human. Or at least, you're a half-Human. You're from Earth. There are Humans from Earth here. Right outside the K'eld, I mean. We need you to go find out what they're up to, and how they got here. Go."
***
As he stepped outside of the K'eld, something caught a hold of his arm. He spun around with an exclamation of surprise, ready to fight. However, he was surprised differently, as it was only Ra'tane. "Glad to see you, but what are you doing here?" he asked.
"You ought to know by now," she laughed. "You can't go off adventuring by yourself!" She was wearing the leather armor of female Drakel, usually only worn when the Drakel were going off to battle. Apparently, she wasn't taking any chances. "Shall we meet them, then?"
They met them. Adam was truly shocked to see the Humans there- he knew them. Not all of them, but a few of them were the closest things that he had to friends on Earth. And then, there was Vincent, his erstwhile agent. Vincent was- by far- the slimiest man that Adam had ever met. To publishing companies, he was simply a very determined man. However, he pushed his writers as hard as they could go, and tried to scam them out of money all of the while. Unfortunately, he had been the only one that would take Adam's writings. He had known Adam very well. However, he didn't recognize the scaly monster which approached him now.
Its jaw was slack, and it walked toward Vincent with a slow, dream-like pace. Oh, god! There's another! he thought, noticing a female. Not bad, he thought, before fear got the best of him. He threw himself at the monster's feet, saying, "Don't eat me! I'm high in cholesterol! Very fatty, you know. Eat the others! They're nice and lean and juicy! And tender! Very tender!"
Oh, no! The creature was laughing at him! Any moment now, it would open its gaping maw, and shove him into the everlasting darkness within! That was rather poetic. Maybe I should write, myself. Then, the creature spoke. "Vincent, ya' slimeball, I wouldn't eat you. You'd give me food poisoning. Anyway, it's Adam. Don't tell me you don't recognize me!"
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 3
Jack had been calmly surveying the scene, his hand on his .45 pistol. It would seem that the leader of the expedition- Vincent- was even more of a coward than he seemed. At the first hint of trouble, he threw himself on the ground and begged for mercy. Worse, he was going to betray them! Something had to be done to solve the matter. Slowly, cautiously, he drew the pistol, though he doubted that the creature would know what a gun even was…
Then he heard what the thing said.
Vincent stared up at the monstrosity in front of him. Now, he was truly frightened- Adam had died months ago! They never found the body, and they suspected suicide, but… Surely, he couldn't have made it to this backwater planet! In fact, Vincent and his crew barely made it themselves. His contact in the government had been secretly transferring funds for months, then editing the tax forms so that it would seem that Vincent was merely making lots of money, and paying the taxes. Unfortunately, the contact was found out about, but Vincent and his crew had made it off, with a few stowaways.
The stowaways in question were Adam's acquaintances. They had never trusted Vincent, had told Adam not to, and he ended up dead… or worse. Moreover, when Vincent became rich only weeks after Adam's death, and his mysterious friend had been arrested, all sorts of thoughts went through their minds. One of Vincent's other acquaintances had leaked a bit of information about the plan, so they knew when and where some event would take place. Long story short, they boarded the ship in secret, took weapons from the storage room, and then forced Vincent and his crew to launch.
Now, they were staring, shocked, at the reptilian creature before them. It backed away a step from Vincent, and looked him over. "Same stupid expression, same blubber… yeah, it's definitely you," it said to Vincent. "Can't say it's good to see you, but how'd you get here?"
Vincent glared at the hideous, hulking, green creature. "How do I know it's you, Adam? If that is your real name! You're much taller than you used to be, if it is you. Adam wasn't seven feet!"
Adam stared down at him. Then, he rolled his eyes and spoke in a condescending, patronizing tone. "I'm muscular. I'm scaly. I'm on a planet that was previously undiscovered. Somehow, you find the place in your tiny, pitiful little mind to point out that I'm a tad bit taller!? As for proof, here." He suppressed the magical powers of the Drakstone, and went back into his Human form. "Been six weeks since I've been a Human," he muttered. "Proof enough?"
"How do I know it's not some kind of hypnosis?" Vincent was desperate now. His palms were sweaty, his throat dry. That was the exact image of Adam. More muscular, and with a scraggly beard, but it was Adam nonetheless. There was something else different about him, as well. Before, he was usually scowling, and when he spoke, he had the tone of one who wishes to be somewhere else. Now, he had a different feel about him. Something confident, and mildly intimidating. Now I sound like some stupid fantasy story, thought Vincent, disgusted.
Adam sighed. "Okay. You want proof? The last thing that I ever said to you was, 'Don't start. I'm sick of your crap.'"
Vincent paled. "It is you! How…? You… I…"
However, Adam had already turned away. He called for Ra'tane, then introduced her to everyone. Then, for the first time, he noticed Jack there. Of those who had been somewhat close to him, Jack was the closest. He very nearly became Adam's friend. As soon as Adam's name had been spoken, the pistol dropped from his hand, and he stood rigid. Now, his eyes were twitching, his mouth was slightly open, and a small, overwhelmed sound came out of it. Adam grasped his hand, and clapped him on the back. "Good to see ya'!"
Jack looked at him, swallowed, and said, "I wish I could say that the feeling was mutual…"
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 4
Adam stepped back a little, his smile diminishing. "What?" he asked, thinking it was a joke. Surely, Jack wouldn't have changed that much in the little time that Adam was gone…
"I said, I'm not happy to see you. Look at yourself. You're a freak! You sold out the human race."
Blinking, Adam stepped back even more. What was going on? Jack really had been the closest thing Adam had ever had to a friend, why was he turning on him now? What did he mean by "sold out the human race?" These questions and many others formed in Adam's mind, but he didn't have time to ask them, Jack was speaking again. "What, nothing to say?" he sneered. "If you had tried to come back, then think of everything that you could have done! All the knowledge that could have been gained, had you tried to return!"
Adam's mouth became a thin line, and he sighed. After a moment, he spoke. "I did try," he said. "I told Warlic- uh, the head wizard or whatever around here- to send me back, he couldn't."
"So… you decided to give up, stick around, and interbreed? Very noble of you. Tell me, did you do anything else?"
Forcing a grim smile, Adam said, "I killed off two major threats to an entire species, and nearly died three times doing it. What have you been doing since I've been gone? Surely something more important than the little things I've been up to. I mean, come on! There's no glory in saving a race from extinction, is there?"
Jack was lost for an answer this time, but quickly found one. "I thought you were a pacifist. Do you care more for these perverted lizards than you do your native species?" He would have continued, but Adam punched him in the face. "How dare you!?" shouted the enraged man. "Perverted lizards? I thought I knew you, Jack, but apparently, I didn't. Do you have so little of your old self-respect that you have to console yourself by making stupid, immature comments about those you don't know?" Adam then rounded on Vincent. "Have you been brainwashing him, you slug? If you have been, I'll-"
Ra'tane's arm blocked his path. Fuming, Adam tried to push it out of the way, but it stuck firmly. "No," she said. "Don't murder anyone. Not yet, anyway. As for now, why not talk to your other… people you know. Maybe they'll infuriate you less."
For the first time since he had spoken to Vincent, Adam remembered his other acquaintances. He turned to them now, and called out, "Hey! Silent guys over there! Do you hate me too, or are you willing to talk?" He had his hand on his sword hilt now, he wasn't going to take any chances. "And by the way, you never answered my question. How'd you get here? And why are you here, anyway?"
Tom, another of his acquaintances, stepped forward and cleared his throat. "We were… worried about you. Yes, even Jack was. We thought that Vincent might have…" He swallowed. "Might have murdered you. Then, he started getting rich, and-"
Adam cut him off. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Vincent started getting rich? Slow down. What happened right after I disappeared?"
"Okay. We don't hear from you for a couple of days. A couple of days turns to a week. We go check out your house, you're not there. So, we call the police, and they search for you, they call all of your contacts, no one's seen you. They even interrogated the barkeep! After a couple more weeks, nobody else sees you- and what happened to your car?- they say you're presumed dead. All of a sudden, Vincent starts dressing up all nice; his wardrobe isn't so tacky anymore. His cologne gets better, luckily. So we think that he found some way to get money off'a your death. We follow him a bit, see? We find out that he's gonna be launching some rocket thing off to some backwater planet. Then later, we hear in the news that some mole in the government was giving money to an unknown source. So, we board his ship, and grab some weapons. As soon as he and the brute squad," he motioned at the people Adam didn't know, "got on, we held guns to the back of their heads, and demanded for them to go exactly on-course. They took us here, and here you are. Go figure."
Adam nodded slowly. "So, what are you doing here?"
Vincent stepped forward. "Well…"
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 5
"Spit it out!" Adam growled. He wasn't going to take anything from Vincent today, not in the angry state he was in. Vincent promptly spat it out.
"Well… My contact in the government kinda got er… caught. So firstly, we needed to get away. And you know how far technology has advanced- they could follow us to any planet they wanted to." [Author's Note: This is in the time when humanity has perfected teleportation.] "So, we decided to go to one that no Human had ever entered before (or so we thought), a small Type-D planet with a suitable atmosphere. It was not recorded on any current government map; it was too unimportant to take notice of. However, my contact in the government did manage to get one last thing for us before he was arrested: he managed to nab an old star map. Granted, it was outdated, and the planet would have moved by then, but we were lucky; according to my calculations, it was somewhere near where it had been."
At this, Adam couldn't stand it anymore. "Firstly, why are you telling me this? You're kind of giving me all of the evidence that I would give any court. And secondly, your calculations? I thought that you were too dense to do that kind of thing."
"First, so what? It's not like we can just leave: no gas! Secondly, I'm much smarter than you think," sniffed the erstwhile agent.
"That's not exactly saying a lot," said Adam with a wolfish smile. "But you said, 'Firstly,' when you were talking about your reasons for coming. What's the other reason?"
"Well…" said Vincent, but he continued on a glare from Adam. "Okay, I've heard tell of a great force coming to this planet. Don't ask me where! You couldn't comprehend it. Anyway, it's called The'Galin, and I think that he'll award me great power if I serve him well. That is the other reason I came. To attempt to meet this The'Galin."
Cocking his head to the side, Adam yawned. "You always were a money-grubbing slug," he said. "So, you don't even know what this thing is up to, but you're willing to help it, just for power?"
Vincent growled, "Shut up! You call me a slug, but I only said that I would meet with The'Galin. Didn't say that I'd work for him."
"You danced around the question. Why are you going to help him?"
"Because I want to be known!" Vincent's voice now had an edge to it. "You know that feeling. It's like screaming when no one hears you! All of us- even you- have had that feeling. We all want to be known, we all want a legacy. You're the kind of guy who gets stuff handed to him; you get tons of opportunities. Me? I gotta find 'em! I'm the kind of unlucky guy who has to find those opportunities! Don't you see that? Can't you at least imagine the feeling?"
Adam stood, staring at Vincent. He was dumbfounded, lost for words. For the first time, he saw Vincent as a human. Unfortunately, his expression was misinterpreted. "You're hopeless!" screamed Vincent. "Have these things desensitized you so much that you can't even have empathy for humans anymore?" Half-heartedly, the man punched Adam in the stomach. Adam let the blow land; it didn't hurt. Vincent stalked off back toward the group of mercenaries that he had hired. He turned to a slim one- apparently the brains- and said, "Cartwright, let's go."
Adam turned back to Ra'tane, and walked back towards her. He said nothing, but opened his mouth to speak. After a moment, he closed it, and sat on the grounds. His other acquaintances had turned to follow Vincent, still armed. Suddenly, Adam had an idea. Grinning, he called out, "Where're you going? You've got to get to know some good old Drakel hostility! I mean, hospitality!" His acquaintances laughed. Vincent and the mercenaries looked queasy, but followed anyway.
As they were walking back towards the K'eld, Tom caught up with Adam. Taking him aside, he explained, "Don't feel too bad about Jack. After you left… See, Jack was the closest thing you ever had to a friend, right? Well, you were the closest thing he ever had to a friend. You were always a loner, so it didn't bother you. But Jack, he had to have people around him; he was a social kind of guy. So when you left, it broke him. He's never been the same. You'd think that he'd love to see you. Problem is, he thought he'd see you like you were before. But when you ended up being… what was it again? Drakel? When you ended up being Drakel, all his hopes were shattered. Just try to make up with him, okay?"
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 6
Adam walked at the back with Ra’tane, so that they could keep an eye on the group. As they neared the K’eld, he began to transform back into his Drakel form.
If the Drakstone were in his hand, not embedded in his ribs, Adam’s transformation would have been instantaneous. However, as it was now actually a part of him, imbedded in muscle and tissue, he more or less melted into the form. Luckily, he felt no pain during the process, or it would have been unbearable. Spines began sprouting from his back and neck, extending to a solid foot. His eyes lengthened and contracted quite a bit, but finally settled on an ovoid shape. His pupils dilated, narrowing and growing taller, so that finally they were of a rounded diamond shape. Skin hardened into scale, and turned yellow, then chartreuse, and finally deep green. The Human tailbone, short as it was, lengthened into a massive tail, with spines readily emerging from it. Fingernails and toenails grew long, thick, curved, and sharp. Quietly, and on a frequency undetectable to Humans or Drakel, his bones popped, cracked, and reformed, leaving him a good foot or so taller. His nose and mouth conjoined somewhat, and lengthened. Both of his ears shrank, becoming mere ear flaps. Surprisingly, his hearing did not decrease noticeably. The blue light near his heart glowed more brightly, and more steadily. A large crest appeared on the back of his head. His transformation complete, he pulled on a pair of gloves, and pulled on some leather knee armor.
Feeling drained, he stumbled a bit, and pulled out his sword. He leaned on it, trying to force himself into a standing position. Ra’tane was there to support him, and he threw an arm around her neck. “Thanks,” he grunted. She smiled back at him. “Don’t worry,” she murmured. “It’s not exactly a burden to have to carry you.”
***
Even Adam’s acquaintances were disarmed, leaving the Drakel the only ones with weapons. They were seated at a table, the Humans in various states of discomfort. Vincent was obviously the most uncomfortable, constantly swallowing. His bald head was glistening with sweat, and Adam once more had the urge to wax Vincent’s head. He had had the urge several times before, always wondering how shiny it could become. Most of the mercenaries were glaring sulkily at their food, as if wondering whether or not it was poisoned. Adam’s acquaintances wore fixed smiles, and laughed a bit too hard at jokes. They were obviously trying to be sociable, though, so Adam didn’t mind too much. The Drakel were gathered around them, drinking and laughing. Table manners were quite different in the reptilian society; you ate meat with your hands. To use silverware on meat was an insult, it meant that you thought that your host or hostess’ meal was tough. All aspects of Drakel society were represented here, from young children to old sages. The party was being held in Adam’s house, a tent that did not at all reflect the funds that were allotted Adam and Ra’tane. D’nob, too, was present. After the Eramgin defeat, he and Adam had kept in contact. Of course, D’nob had been given lots of money as well.
Occasionally, one of the younger Drakel would nudge a mercenary, grin, and repeat a joke. Almost without exception, the nudged mercenary would nod somberly, then return to inspecting his food. Though they were very technologically advanced, the Drakel had not studied many Humans in detail. They piled the men’s plates high with meat, more than the average person could eat. After tasting the steak, pork, fish, chicken, and more that was set before him, Vincent had decided that the meat was good. He now shoved meat down his gullet as fast as it could go, more reviling than the Drakel’s manners were to Humans. His stomach was shaking with the massive intake of food, and S’larth wondered if it would explode. In fact, he had to refrain himself from calling out, “Watch it! Orcs have stuffed their bombs in him!” However, he didn’t think that would be polite to Adam.
Slowly, Tom and the others got to know the Drakel, and were soon exchanging stories. Except for Jack, that is, who kept his attention on his food. At one point, the Drakel had a toast, at which point glasses were roughly slammed together, drink sloshing everywhere. Adam noted how Germanic that seemed, but remembered the theory of parallel universes. Giving a mischievous, but not unkind grin, Adam held his glass in front of Jack. Adam arched an eyeridge at him, and said softly, “Toast.”
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 7
The party had calmed somewhat, and S'larth was now speaking. "As we're now right drunk on mead, it's time to talk business!" This was met with roars of approval. Even Vincent gave a little "Yar." Once the clamor had died down a bit, S'larth continued. "We have visitors, as you all can tell. They have business to attend to! Right?" The room became quiet as the Drakel waited for Vincent to answer. Looking uncomfortable, and unsure of proper etiquette (though he most likely wouldn't follow it anyway), Vincent went with another little "Yar." He was growing fonder of the sound.
"Well, see, you need an escort. Not because we don't think you could handle the monsters out there! You need one so that you don't get lost. What's the point of shooting everything if you can't eat it, huh? As you seem to know Adam pretty well, he and Ra'tane will be escorting you to a town called Battleon. There, you can discuss further plans. By the way, what's your business here, anyway? Seems like a long way to go, just for business purposes."
Vincent nudged Cartwright, who stood. "My… employer wishes to meet with this man. He sees that there may be some use from him. We wish to propose a merger of sorts. As such, my employer has chosen this planet as a meeting grounds. But, having met this Adam person, I think that my employer may also be interested in hiring him. Does he hold much rank within your society?"
Frowning slightly, S'larth said, "I suppose he would, he's rather influential. Er… who is your employer?"
"I doubt that you'd know him, but I assure you, you will almost certainly meet him soon. You see, my employer is also interested in forging an alliance with this planet, and an allegiance with your race might speed along the process." Cartwright sat again.
Adam had been studying the man, but he was no Sherlock Holmes. All he could tell from looking at him was that he was thin, a normal height, had brown eyes, and had dark hair. Also, he was a snazzy dresser. Something else had also come to his attention, though: there was a possibility that Cartwright was the leader of the group, not Vincent. After all, it was Cartwright's employer that had apparently summoned Vincent. Therefore, wasn't it probable that Cartwright was assigned to make sure that Vincent got there? In the chance that Cartwright was the leader- he seemed to at least be a better speaker- Adam directed the next question at him. "So, where are you all headed? And why would your employer want to see me?"
"We will be meeting my employer, as I said before. I do not know if he would wish to see you. However, you might be quite a help to him. Furthermore, since you are going to be accompanying us to the site of the meeting, it seems proper that he should meet our guide."
"Thanks, I guess," replied Adam. He was a bit uneasy around this man, though he didn't know why. There was just something about him that made Adam feel uncomfortable. Almost as if the man wasn't Human. "Well, uh… I guess we'd better start heading toward the town, huh? I mean, better start off while there's still daylight."
Cartwright gave him an odd smile, and said, "Yes, I suppose we should. Tell me, how long have you been here? On this planet, I mean."
"Uh… a couple of months, I think. Why d'you ask?"
"I was merely curious as to your knowledge of the planet. Do you study its lore often?"
"Yeah, I guess so." Adam was getting more and more confused by the moment. Why did this man want to know so much about him? "Ra'tane's been here since she was born, so she'd know more than I do…"
Cartwright nodded. "You come from Terra, I assume?"
"Yeah. But why do you care so much?"
"Job interview. Now then," he said, turning to Ra'tane, "how long have you been here? Oh, forgive me. Since you were born. You are a full Drakel, correct?"
"Yes," replied Ra'tane, perplexed. "Adam's the only off-planet visitor we've had… until you all came, of course."
"Of course. I assume that you hold the same hierarchal ranking as he?"
"I suppose I would, though I don't know what ranking that is. We're rather well-known, and somewhat influential, though I wouldn't exactly say we have power…"
"Indeed." Cartwright nodded, then continued. "May I get your full name?"
"Ra'tane. Just Ra'tane. Adam shed his last name when we married, he wanted to fit in, and he never like his, anyway. What is yours?" she asked.
"Robert Twain Cartwright. I represent the N.O.V.A. company, and have been sent by my employer, who shall be nameless for the current time, due to security reasons. He's a very important figure, you know, don't want him to be swamped by admirers. Shall we be off?"
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 8
It was a strange, unruly group that the morning light found. It had been a long walk, more so because it was dark before they started. Now, the two Drakel and the group of Humans were stumbling into the town of Battleon. Pale lights adorned the tops of buildings, and all was quiet.
That is, all was quiet except for Vincent. "Agh, are we going to be there soon? I’m starving! We've been walking for hours. We need to eat, now!" Adam glared at him to quiet him. "Look," he said. "We're here, okay? Now, be quiet. This is an inn, so people are going to be sleeping. And we don't like it when loud, obnoxious jerks are waking us up." Adam was still sore about having been woken up early.
They walked into the Inn, and surveyed their surroundings. It was dimly lit, candles on every table. Most of the patrons were asleep, but some were awake, generally drinking. However, while the others had gone to consult Yulgar about a room, Adam noticed one patron reading a book. It happened to be the autobiography that he had written, The Creation of Half-Drakel Warrior. Taking a moment, Adam sat down next to the man. "So, do you like the book?"
Obviously, the man didn't recognize him. The man frowned in confusion, and said, "Uh… it's good, I like it. Why do you ask?"
"I'm thinking about buying a copy. By the way, I hear that the author is dashingly handsome."
The man looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "No, not really. I mean, he might be alright by some people’s standards, but… you get the idea. Er… why are you glaring at me?” Adam’s teeth were gritted, and his fists were clinched. “Nothing! It’s nothing,” ground out Adam. “Well, I’ve got to catch up with my group, but it was nice meeting you. What’s your name, by the way?”
“I’m called Amboo, who are you?”
“I’m Adam. It was nice meeting you, Amboo.” Adam then stalked away, muttering, “‘Might be alright by some people’s standards,’ ha! I’m a fine example of a man! Don’t see why some people can’t tell that just by looking at me …”
***
When he ascended the staircase to the room the party had rented, he saw Vincent being engulfed by a plate of food. That was what the casual passerby would have seen, anyway. In reality, Vincent has his face buried in a pile of food. The sight of it nearly made Adam gag. “You’re disgusting,” he sneered. “What, trying to prove that you can breathe under food?”
Vincent looked at him, and spoke through a mouthful of food. “I’m hungry!” he tried to say, but it came out, “Ahm hongrr.” Without chewing more, he swallowed, and said, “So, we’re staying here for the night?”
“Yeah, unless you’d prefer to sleep outside. There’s no other choices around here. And by the way, this room is just for you and your group. Ra’tane and I will be sharing another one, so when I leave, don’t bother me unless it’s a matter of life and death.” Adam started for the door, but a cane blocked his path. He turned with a start, and saw Cartwright standing there. The man smiled slightly, and said, “Before you go, there’s a few things that I would like to discuss with you. Firstly, do you know where Cradk Cavern is?”
Adam thought a moment, then said, “Yeah, I guess so. Why do you ask?”
“That is where we will be meeting my employer. About how long would it take us to get there on foot, if we start tomorrow?”
“I’d say about three days, if we start tomorrow. That is, unless we are delayed by enemies.”
Cartwright arched his eyebrows. “Enemies? Do you have many enemies, then? Or are they bandits, attacking any who come near?”
“Most are monsters. Some are bandits, though. We might meet anything from a Frogzard- uh, some indigenous wildlife- to a Vampire. Their handmaidens can be really annoying.” Adam recalled his encounter with a Vamp Handmaiden, and the scars that had originated from that meeting.
Cartwright gave him a strange glance, with a lopsided grin to match. “Very interesting indeed,” he said. “The females are warriors? I didn’t think that a pseudo-medieval society would accept such an idea. Although, your wife certainly seems an ample fighter.”
Adam shrugged. “We all fight ‘round here. Men, women, things of indeterminate gender… All of us. So, we’re to be meeting your employer soon? Well… I guess I’d best get some sleep, then. ‘Night.”
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 9
Adam woke, and found himself on the floor. His back ached, and his head hurt. Apparently, he had rolled out of bed during the night. He lay pondering whether he should get up or not, then something stepped on him. Wind whooshed out of him, and he let out a muffled gargle. Thrashing wildly, he managed to bite the foot on top of him, and heard a yelp of pain. Something hit the floor next to him, and he gasped for breath. The Something on the other side of him had regained its footing, and Adam, eyes closed with sleep, launched himself at the back of its knees. Whatever Something it was collapsed, and called out, “Adam! It’s me!”
It was Ra’tane. Oops. Adam stood up, and wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Are you alright?” he asked. He didn’t doubt that she was; Drakel were very durable. “I thought you were one of the mercenaries, turning on us. Sorry for… attacking you like that.” Strangely, that happened rather often in Drakel society. Diplomacy wasn’t one of their strongest points. Ra’tane sat next to him now, and said, “Yes, I’m fine. Sorry for stepping on you, I was trying to see where you’d gone.”
“Well, you found that out!” laughed Adam. He opened his mouth to say more, but someone knocked on the door. He groaned, and called out, “What is it? Is someone dead, or are you room service?”
“We were seeing if you were awake. Morning is come, and the sun is high. We really need to go soon.” Adam didn’t recognize the voice, but he opened the door anyway. It was one of the mercenaries, armed and ready. He looked tired, dead on his feet. Dark circles surrounded his eyes, and he was slouching. Curious, Adam inquired, “What’s wrong with you? Trouble sleeping?”
“Uh… yeah, I guess so,” said the mercenary. He looked mildly confused, as if he were a bit disoriented. “Well, I guess I’d better go… Cartwright shouldn’t be kept waiting.” …Cartwright! It would seem that Adam’s suspicions were not unfounded. The mercenaries had certainly been hired by Adam’s erstwhile agent, so why were they reporting to Cartwright? Was there a coup d’état coming? He’d have to ask Tom about it; Tom was the only one that Adam could completely trust. After Jack, Tom had been the next closest to Adam, and he hadn’t turned on Adam yet. His musings were interrupted by Ra’tane, who had come out of the room. “Ready?” he asked her. She replied, “Yes,” and Adam met the mercenaries downstairs.
They ate a large breakfast, almost as much food as when the Drakel served them. However, there was a bit more variety in this meal. Vincent, even after his huge plate of food yesterday, ate more than two of the mercenaries combined, and they weren’t exactly light. Yulgar, the owner of the inn, seemed mildly uncomfortable around the heavily armed men, but all of his usual patrons were armed as well. Then again, he wasn’t exactly defenseless himself: a huge axe was right in front of the desk, and myriad other weapons were nearby, as he was also a merchant. The fact that Adam, Ra’tane, Tom, and the others of Adam’s acquaintances were watching them intensely was also somewhat reassuring. However, the mercenaries were on good behavior today. They kept their eyes on their plate, though they occasionally shot glances at their wards. Interestingly, they ate their food in the style of the U.S. Marine Corps. Then again, some of them probably used to be Marines. Cartwright, who had finished his meal quite a few minutes ago, turned to Adam. “Which road will we be taking?” he queried.
“Huh? Oh. We’ll probably be headed north to the Crossroads, then head off towards Somewhere (no, seriously, that’s a direction), and turn north a few miles into the road. After that, it turns to forest. It’s quite a walk, so we might have to pitch camp a few times. After a lot of miles, we’ll finally come to Cradk.”
Soon, the meal was finished, and Vincent seemed to actually have grown in girth. His face glistened with grease, and he licked his lips in satisfaction. Something about him really disgusted Adam, who couldn’t resist poking him in the middle. “You know, you aren’t the only one who’ll enjoy the meal. I’m sure the creatures out there can’t wait to get a bite out of that big, fat, juicy body of yours.” Adam took a somewhat sadistic pleasure in seeing the agent pale, then he turned away. “Time to go,” he said. He strode out the door, and the mercenaries followed him.
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 10
They circled around the group of dog-like beasts, weapons drawn. Adam had chosen his favorite broadsword for the trip, Ra’tane had something similar to a partisan, and the others all had firearms ranging from pistols to assault rifles. It was rare that this many monsters would attack in a group at once, but there was no time to think about that. Even though there were many Humans, there were more monsters, and they might be a bit of a problem. Adam experimentally lashed out at one of the beasts, and managed to harm it a bit. However, he got a bitten arm for his trouble. Furthermore, he had angered the beasts, and they now ran at speeds only animals or machines could reach. Soon, they formed a charging circle around the group of travelers, and were occasionally striking out. “No good,” said Ra’tane. “We need to be on the offensive.” She followed her statement with a quick jab. It landed, and she spun her weapon, the long blade twirling quickly. Unfortunately, one of the other beasts had attacked a mercenary, and he stumbled into the shaft, breaking the spin. He got up, fired at the beast that had knocked him down, and then butted it in the head. Ra’tane by this time had regained her balance, and slashed into the head of the creature that had attacked her. It began bleeding from its eyeball, and the feral hound growled. It jumped at her, but she blocked its lunge with the shaft of her weapon, and countered, impaling the doggish creature.
Meanwhile, Adam was brawling with another of the creatures. His sword had been knocked aside, partly from his injured arm. Now, he was entangled around the mangy hound, punching, kicking, and biting. Its drool dripped onto his face, and its breath was putrid. It bit into his arm, fortunately the one that was already injured. He bit back, though he regretted it: it tasted horrible. Adam managed to jam a knee against its ribs, and push off. The dog yelped in pain, and rolled right-side up, snarling. Adam dropped into a crouch, and groped for his sword. Unfortunately, the beast leaped at his chest before he could grab it, and the grapple began again. This time, though, Adam grabbed the thing’s jaws, and forced them to open wider than possible. The resounding crack made Adam shudder, but the beast was now whimpering. Adam glanced at his broadsword, grabbed it, and stabbed the thing. It fell over, dead.
Jack had leaped on top of a large boulder, and was firing at the dogs from there. He felled one, before another leaped onto the boulder. It was too close to be able to get a good shot at, as it was circling him. So, he flipped his pistol around, and began to use it as a club. As the monster bounded at him, he struck it between the eyes. It fell, dazed, and he shot it. However, it was much tougher than the dogs, or even wolves of Earth, and got up again, bleeding. Its movements were slowed, however, and Jack jumped on it. Even though he didn’t like doing so, he put the barrel of the gun against the creature’s head, and pulled the trigger. He turned his head aside as he did so.
Soon, all of the beasts were felled, except for a few which had fled. The group was busy tending to their respective wounds, and some form of companionship had arrived. For the moment, that is. Almost immediately after they were finished, the matter of food arrived. Adam and Jack were currently engaged in a discussion about who should go to find some, as both were tired of being around the mercenaries. Finally, Adam said, “Look. I’m from here, I know what kind of game and plants are edible. So I’m going. What you need to do is stay here and guard the mercenaries.” He leaned close to Jack, and muttered, “Keep an eye on that Cartwright guy, okay? There’s something not right about him.” Grudgingly, Jack agreed, and Adam set out.
***
He had not been looking long, before he spied a plant that he had never before seen. Living with the Drakel, he had studied Lorian botany, so he was curious about this new thing. It was bulbous, round, and pink. Yellow stripes ran from the stem to the tip, and it was wriggling slightly, as if it were full of something. Cautiously, Adam tapped it gently. With a hissing sound, it exploded, sending a pink fluid over Adam, with a cloying scent to match. Adam’s muscles went first rigid, then lax, and he collapsed. His eyes were open, but he had lost control of all other voluntary muscles. The scent was still there, clogging his senses. His body convulsed and retched as the scent enveloped him. The last thing he saw was two pairs of cloth boots, before something pricked him, and he fell into unconsciousness.
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 11
His mind was blurry, his tongue furry. Pus crusted on his eyelids, and he had great difficulty in opening them. When he finally did manage to crack them, the strange pus burned and dried his eyes, causing him great pain. His muscles were sore and aching, and they still barely moved, even when he strained. Adam moved his tongue over cracked lips, and tasted blood. Most significantly, though, was the general depression and apathy that enveloped him. A vague impression of dead things drifted past his nose, and he felt fur and mold below him. Rolling over, he landed on stone flooring, and he ached even more. Luckily, his hands and feet were not bound, but there was no obvious doors out of the prison. Prison it was, as there was nothing except blank white walls and a pile of rotting animal corpses in the room. No apparent doors, no windows. A single, fluorescent light was on, far above his head. The sheer blankness of the pit made Adam a bit nauseous. Combined with the smell of the corpses, Adam nearly vomited again. Ferocious hunger clawed at his innards, and soon drove him to distraction. With a shudder, he fell to the ground, receiving a mild concussion. Groaning, he lurched to his feet, and fell upon the mound of filth. Almost without his consent, his mouth opened, and he began consuming the bilious meat. This time, he succumbed to the sickness, and promptly emptied his stomach of the antagonistic fodder. However, it could not be helped- hunger was stronger than self-respect.
After eating as much of the repulsive meat as he could bear, Adam fell to the ground again; he was beginning to get to know it quite well. The light, far above him as it was, had heated up his confinement. Therefore, he could do naught but lay on his own sweat and vomit, contemplating the edibility of the black mold. Tracing around the room, however, his eyes noticed an item of suspicion: An empty syringe was laying on the ground, there was a drop of a murky substance still in it. Adam started to crawl over to it, wondering if it, and not the plant, was the source of his weakness. Furthermore, his despair was such that he began to ponder if taking another drop would render him unconscious. That made no logical sense, but his mind was not working properly. That, at least, was likely an effect of whatever the substance was. However, he did not get a chance to test his theory, as a hidden panel in the wall had just swung open. Once again, two pairs of boots stood in the doorway. What was different about this instance, though, was that Adam remained conscious to meet the owners of the boots. He shuffled to a sitting position against the mound of decaying bodies. It was not out of an urge to see what might be a possible attacker- he would rather end his misery quickly, if it came to that- but out of curiosity.
What he saw was a scientist and a deformed man, standing side by side. The scientist had medium black hair, somewhat greasy. He wore a plain, white waistcoat, and had on some black slacks. A monocle adorned his eye, and he was grinning broadly. "Why, hello there," he said, extending a hand to Adam. "Professor Ziox, at your service. I must say, I have never before caught such an interesting subject. You had been Drakel, but upon my introduction of a serum into your body, you became Human. I must know how you do that. Ah, but I forget my manners! What would your name be?"
For the first time, Adam looked at himself. He found that he was indeed Human, and could not retransform, even when he tried. Doubting that he could trust this man, he did not give the name Half-Drakel Warrior, in fear that Ziox might recognize him. Instead, he said only "Adam. Give me water."
After pouring some metallic-tasting water down Adam's throat, Professor Ziox said, "Pleased to meet you, Adam. This is my assistant, Jadugarr," Ziox motioned toward the hunchback. "He will be… taking care of you while you're here." Nudging the deformed man, he said, "Say hello, Jadugarr."
Based on every horror movie he had seen, Adam expected the hunchback to be a slobbering, speech-impeded, retarded man, but he was surprised; Jadugarr spoke with a perfectly normal voice, and actually sounded intelligent. "Hello," he said, shaking Adam's hand roughly. "I think you'll like it here- it's rather like a magiscientist's tent, no? I suppose I must give you the tour soon. Follow me." This was not at all what Adam had expected. Was he a prisoner, or a guest? Shrugging and shoving the question to the back of his mind, Adam followed Jadugarr out of his new room. Even if the tour would be boring, it would be a welcome change from the sheer blankness of the room.
He was shown many things, from the experiment chamber- with strange stains on the floor and walls- to the robot, 2D. When Adam asked what it stood for, Jadugarr waved a hand impatiently, and didn't answer. He led Adam on to more things, including the impressive set of syringes. They had all sizes, from nearly microscopic to one that could be used on a blue whale. "These are for testing our latest experiments," explained the hunchback. "We'll be using the normal size on you, I dare say. Too small, and you wouldn't get enough. Too large, and you might get an overdose."
Adam tensed, and asked the inevitable question: "An overdose of what?" He was ready to fight if necessary, but he wasn't sure how it would end up. Normally, he wouldn't have been at all unsure who would win, but he was now weakened, and he had no idea of the opponent's strength. It could be anywhere from fighting a child to fighting D'nob. Possibly even worse, as this man was obviously more intelligent than D'nob.
"Don't worry about that now," smiled the hunchback. "It's just a simple experiment. We'll let you go once you're through." Yes, thought Jadugarr, if he lives through it. We've never had a sentient subject before, I just hope he's more likely to shut up than those animals. "Well, that about wraps it up," he said. "We should go back to the professor now, Adam. I'm sure that he has lots to tell you."
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 13
"We can't just leave him!" "Look. If he's stupid enough to go off and leave us alone, then he's gonna get killed. And we can't be expected to care for dead weight, can we?" "Well, I suppose we should at least look for him. For a bit, anyway." "But we don't know he's dead! If he is, we'll bury him! How heartless are you?" "We're wasting valuable time arguing. If it'll please your consciences, you can go look for him. The rest of us will continue on, and you can catch up later." Ra'tane, Tom, Jack, and Vincent were having an argument about whether or not to attempt to find Adam, and it was at a standstill. Ra'tane and Tom wanted to find him; Jack thought it was hopeless, Vincent thought it was a waste of time.
Clearing his throat, Cartwright stepped forward. He seemed to gather importance around him, as if it were a substance that could be physically moved. "We should search for Adam, if for no other reason that to protect ourselves from whatever attacked or kidnapped him. Furthermore, I have a personal interest in finding him, as my employer may wish to meet with him."
Tom glanced at him. "You keep talking about your employer. Who is your employer, anyway? I don't think any of us would be going to kill him or swarm him with fans. So, I'm pretty sure it's safe to tell us."
Sighing, Cartwright said, "I suppose, for the sake of companionship, I should tell you my employer's name. My employer is called The'Galin, he's well-known in other planets. The'Galin sees something in this planet, so he's sending his Network to... scout it out. See if it's worth his attention, I suppose. But, we need to move our attention back to the task at hand. It is getting dark, so we should probably get to a town before we go off to search for Adam. There is a small village up ahead, we could stay there for the night." When Ra'tane started to protest, he said, "It would be nearly impossible to find him in the dark. We'll have a much better chance when it's light and we're rested. Correct?" Ra'tane grudgingly agreed, and they headed to the town.
Cartwright had made an understatement. It wasn't just a small village, it was tiny. If one were to stand at the north entrance, they could see the south entrance, and not even distantly. Skeptical of what kind of lodging they would find there, Ra'tane led the way into a nearby inn. At the desk was an old man, seemingly off in his own little world.
"Do you have any rooms?" asked Ra'tane.
"Yes, ah have lots of food!" replied the man in a country accent.
"No, do you have any rooms?"
"Ah said ah have lots of food!" He didn't seem to realize that he was shouting.
"I do not want any food! Do you have any rooms!?" Ra'tane was getting increasingly aggravated with the old man. Was he really that hard of hearing, or was he trying to give her a hard time?
At that moment, an old woman- the man's wife- came down a flight of stairs. She waddled up to the man, and shouted in his ear, "She doesn't want any food! She wants a loom!" Turning to Ra'tane, she said, "Sorry about him, he's nearly deaf. Yes, dear, you can borrow my loom."
"I don't want a loom, or food!" Ra'tane nearly shouted. "I want two rooms! You know, a place to stay!"
Now, the old couple were getting into an argument. "She said she wanted directions to the tomb!" "No, she wants to see the moon!" "Are you sure? Sounded like boon to me!" "Boom? No, it was a 'coon!" "Why would she want a raccoon?"
Turning with a sigh, Ra'tane said to the others, "I don't think we're going to get a room here." However, one of the mercenaries ran up and began shaking the couple violently. He screamed, "WE WANT TWO ROOMS! DO YOU HEAR ME!? ROOMS!"
The old man gave him a funny look, and said, "No need to say it twice, I heard you the first time. Yes, you can have some rooms." He handed the mercenary two keys without even asking for payment. However, the mercenary was sobbing, "He's messing with us! Make him stop! Why's he doing that? I don't like him!"
Cartwright buried his face in his hands. "Why, why, why? Why did I hire you? Why?"
So, thought Ra'tane, Adam's suspicions were right. He had told her of his questions about Cartwright, and it would seem that Cartwright had, in fact, hired the mercenaries. However, there were more important matters at hand- they had finally gotten a couple of rooms. She took one of the keys, and headed to hers, with a feeling of sympathy for Cartwright. After all, he would have to sleep in the same room as the mercenaries.
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 14
Log 156
Experiment: Human (?) male, possibly Drakel.
I have begun work on another subject. This is my first sentient subject, so I am hoping for the same or better results as on non-sentient subjects. He seems to respond well to the injection, no apparent tolerance. So far, all of my subjects' bodies have degenerated rapidly, rotting before they died. Luckily, this has not happened yet with my current subject, "Adam." All of the desired effects are there, however: he grows apathetic and depressed. The effect seems to have increased this time, however. Perhaps it builds? If so, then that would greatly accelerate the process of enslavement. With luck, this will reduce the required dosage to only 5 cc, saving money and medicine. In fact- "What's that noise?" demanded Professor Ziox.
Adam was in his cell, throwing himself at the wall. A mad rage filled him, and he couldn't control it. For some reason, the depression had slowly lifted, along with the apathy. In fact, quite the opposite was happening. Fury- a pure, unbridled fury, not like that which we call fury- now enveloped him, obliterating all else. He felt a need stronger than all others: the need out. Tunnel vision had struck; out was the only thing driving him. Adam felt absolute hatred for his captors, he would give anything to have a go at them. Something had turned him feral. In fact, spines had emerged from his back, and a Drakel tail had grown. He threw himself at the wall once more, then the hidden door swung open. The hunchback, Jadugarr was there, looking around for what was causing the noise. With a roar of anger, Adam leaped on him. The hunchback managed to wrestle Adam off of him, but Adam was already back on his feet. Swinging his tail like a bludgeon, he managed to smack Jadugarr's arm, sending the professor's assistant to the ground. Jadugarr called out, "Professor!" before punching Adam in the ribs. Adam fell backward, and the hunchback was on top of him. A brutal grapple ensued, but neither side was giving way. Jadugarr had pure endurance on his side, but Adam was fueled by rage. However, the deadlock was broken by the entrance of Professor Ziox, who managed to help Jadugarr restrain Adam.
Jadugarr, bleeding from several bite marks, wished to kill Adam, but Ziox would not hear of it. "After all," he said, "there's plenty of time to dispose of him when he's not of any use to us. Also, wouldn't it be so much more delightful to make him into your servant?" They bound him to a metal table, and then began questioning him about his current state of mind.
"How exactly do you feel?"
"Hmm, let me think. How about desiring to rip you limb from limb?"
"Any idea what brought about this state of mind?"
"Seeing your face?"
"Are there any traces of apathy left in you?"
"What do you care?"
"One more question. Do you know what we are doing here?"
"Dunno, don't wanna know."
Ziox leaned in dangerously close to Adam. "I'm going to tell you anyway. We- Jadugarr and I- are embarking on a quest for the advancement of all sentient species on Lore. Surely, you know of the various "pet shops" around here? They tamed most of those animals from the wild. We intend to tame all animals. And then, we shall tame our opponents. What point is war, when you can just make all of your opponents mindless servants? And so, we have tested it on many animals. The results were not very pretty, as you have tasted. Now, we are testing it on the Human animal. Well, we supposed that we were, anyway. What we instead received was you. Secluded as my laboratory is, I have heard tale of someone like you. I do believe he was called 'Half-Drakel Warrior.' Very descriptive name, no? You seem to fit what I have heard of him." Feigning surprise, he said, "Why, you wouldn't happen to be Half-Drakel Warrior, would you?"
Adam snarled, "What're you talking about? I don't know anybody like that."
"You're a horrible liar, do you know that?" Jadugarr tightened the bonds on Adam's limbs. "I do believe that you might actually be a threat to us. It's rather sad, though, that you didn't put up enough of a fight. I've heard tales that you defeated as many as eight opponents at once. But, I suppose those are only myths."
"What are you talking about?" demanded Adam again. Bad or not, he was determined to keep lying.
Ziox merely shook his head. "You know what we're talking about, as you are the subject of it. Kindly end this façade, it isn't going to do you any good. But, if you're not willing to talk, then I suppose we're not going to get anything out of you. We'll be going now." He turned away, but snapped his fingers and turned back. "I almost forgot! You need your medication. How could I forget something like that?"
Jadugarr duly left the room and came right back with a syringe. Acting cowed, Adam said, "Hey! I'll take that myself."
"I don't believe you," said the hunchback. "But take it right here. Let's see you." Shrugging, Adam pricked his arm with the needle, then withdrew it a fraction of an inch, where it was not in his arm. Holding his arm close to his chest, he took a chance and very carefully let the serum drip down behind his limb. He didn't have anything to lose; if they saw, they'd just inject him themselves. Fortunately, the scientist and his assistant failed to notice. Adam was off the hook.
For now.
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 15
Wind whistled through the trees and dew glistened on the tall grass. The sunlight was warm, but not oppressive. Gently swaying fronds danced in a circle of life near a small lake.
Enclosing all were the walls of a sleepy village, contented in its own security. Nearby, countless feet trampled the dirt as grim-faced soldiers, many from that sleepy, content village, marched off to a life filled with the ever-present threat of death. With their ears and minds full of tales of glory and their hands heavy with weapons, they trudged ever onward to a dark fate in a darker future.
All had some vestige of doubt as to whether the tales were true. None truly understood what glory there was in the endless sea of blood and bodies that awaited them. As their predecessors and the countless generations of soldiers before them, they merely obeyed the powers that be. Through the turncoat of forced fanaticism, all fooled themselves to believe that they would make it. Many entertained pleasant fantasies that it would be over.
Meanwhile, on the battlefield, all thought that it would never be over. They all waited for the end, but the endless torture continued. The battlefield seems to stretch on for miles, and the pain never stops. There is no end in sight.
Slowly, silently, they resign themselves to the fact that there is no glory; there is only endless battle. They all resign themselves to this fact, then shove it to the back of their consciousness; they wrench their minds back to the eternal present.
From second to second, the young age years in minutes. Wounded lie in the dirt, praying to their respective God or Gods. The moribund masses also lie in the same dirt, coming to the inevitable conclusion that they have been deceived. There is no glory in their war. Glory may come in the end, the time when those who have fought are honored, those who have died remembered, and those who started it congratulated. But there is no glory in war.
Meanwhile, the servant of one of those who start the tragedy sat pondering the situation of an endless war. The engineered war that had been raging for millennia was now entering the planet of Lore. His master, known as The Devourer to his opposition, was ready to begin the war on this planet. There would be opposition, there always was. However, the Network would win. Few "civilized" societies can ever unite, especially with the agents of Chaos working against them. The agents of Chaos did not seek anarchy. In itself, anarchy cannot work; there will always be at least warlordism. The end that they strove for was nothing. They strove for the complete obliteration of those too weak or apathetic to defend themselves. It really is a rather pretty town we're staying in, thought Robert Twain "Ryuusei" Cartwright. Almost a shame that it must end.
In the room adjacent to Cartwright and the mercenaries, Ra'tane woke. She had slept in the clothes she was going to wear, in case there was any kind of conflict in the night. When she was fully awake, she headed downstairs to get some food. Unfortunately, the same old man that had met them was down there. Sighing, she approached him. "Could I have some food, please?" she asked.
"I thought you already had a room!" he replied.
"I don't want a... Wait. Could I have a room?" The old man disappeared below the counter for a bit, then came back up with a tray. "Yep," he said. "You can get some food on this." Ra'tane took it, silently praising reverse psychology. There was a buffet of sorts nearby, and she took some of every kind of meat they had. She didn't take very much, though- to fill herself up would have been to take all of the food there was. When she sat down to eat, though, she saw Vincent stumbling down the stairs. He glanced in her direction, but only noticed the food she had. Immediately, he moved with surprising speed to the buffet, and piled his plate high with food. When he had finished, and the food supply had been greatly decreased, he plopped down across from her, and began complaining. "It's horrible to have to room with them. They never shut up. And they snore terribly! I swear my bed has fleas. Probably from those mercenaries. They're disgusting," he said, food nearly falling out of his mouth. "No manners whatsoever. Ugh, it's nasty. And is this the best food they have? It's not too great. Are you going to finish that?"
Ra'tane, who had been thoroughly disgusted by Vincent, shoved the plate towards him. "Lost my appetite," she said. Now, she sort of missed the mercenaries. However, she didn't have long to miss them. Cartwright, accompanied by an entourage, soon came down the stairs. He immediately approached her, and started discussing plans for searching for Adam. "If we leave within the next hour," he said, "we should have at least eight more hours to search. However, if we leave right now, it's possible that we would have a better chance of finding him. After all, the trail- if there is one- would be fresher, less trodden upon." Ra'tane was in favor of leaving immediately, but the mercenaries had to eat first.
Though it seemed like eternity to Ra'tane, they eventually left the inn, ready to set out. This seemed a bit like déjŕ vu, as it was similar to when they had left Battleon. Funny, thought Ra'tane, it seems like weeks ago. We should have been to the Crossroads long before now. We might have even gotten to Cradk by now. I wonder how many setbacks we'll have by then, if we've had this many by now.
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 16
Adam lay enshrouded in darkness. During a fit of rage, he had managed to break the lamp high above him. Fits my mood, he thought sourly. "But this!" shouted Adam, no longer in his head. "This filthy cell is not where I belong! If I need die, then let my death be somewhere with fresh air! Let me die fighting impossible odds; let me die once I've fallen while fighting the very spawn of Hell! But not this pit, not here! Let me die in glory!" Here, he was wrong. Like the soldiers before him, he would not die in glory if the end came on the battlefield. However, that did not occur to him in his serum-induced rage.
Yes, he had received more of the foul drug. His reprieve had, as he feared, been merely temporary. The rage always returned, worse than the time before. The same went with the depression, but it was already so intense that Adam didn't notice. Ziox and Jadugarr had to deliver his food through a hatch, as they found that to do otherwise would be to sign their own death certificate. The sentient subject was turning feral, that was obvious. It was not to be trusted. Then, interrupting his dark reverie, a loud bang! shook the building.
In his study, Professor Ziox put down his pen. "Why must these little distractions continually interrupt my recording? I suppose we must find out from whom the knocking comes." Grabbing a small projectile weapon, he stood up. "Who is it?" he called out. "Open the door, so that I may see to whom I am speaking."
From the outside of the building came a grunt, followed by a hollow boom. The door was nearly shoved off of its hinges, and a hoard of the roughest-looking people Professor Ziox had ever seen was trooping into his laboratory. All were heavily armed, and they had the gleam in their eye that spoke of murder. Without even a second thought, Ziox promptly shot down one of the brutes. He was about to kill another, but a small knife struck his fingers. Flicking his gaze briefly to his now injured hand, he saw that it was bleeding at a rather rapid pace. Obviously, something would have to be done to remedy the situation: whoever had thrown the knife would have to pay for their actions. It was not at all a challenge- a Drakel woman was charging at him with a sword, calling him many names other than his own.
"Oh, dear," murmured Ziox. "You seem to have hurt my hand. That was not the wisest course of action, my dear." His right hand was paralyzed- the knife had been poisoned- so he grabbed up a crooked blade with his left hand. Granted, this was not his dominant hand, but it would have to do. Moving his right hand behind him, he parried a blow from the woman's sword. Calling for Jadugarr proved of no avail; the hunchback had ran to check on Adam, and to administer more dosage if needed.
"What have you done with Adam, you ...?" said the Drakel, ending her sentence with many vulgar words. She kicked at his chest, sending him sprawling to the ground.
"Oh, are you his mistress, then?" asked Ziox, with a wicked grin. "You're a tad bit late, I fear. Your beloved has turned a tad bit feral, I'm afraid." By this time, he had rolled back to his feet, and locked swords with the woman. Granted, men tended to have more upper body strength, but the Drakel were already more muscular than most Humans, and Ziox wasn't the most fit. Therefore, it was a pretty even grapple, neither Ziox or Ra'tane giving way. Then, Ziox jerked his head toward Jadugarr, who was coming back with Adam. "And there he is!" said the scientist through gritted teeth. Calling to Adam, he said, "What's the matter? Aren't you going to fight for your paramour?"
Adam had been administered another dosage of the drug, and was now experiencing the worst depression yet. Jadugarr had a knife at his back, but he didn't care. Nothing could be done... But what was Ra'tane doing here? He shook his head, trying to clear it. This proved difficult, as his thoughts were yet bleary. However, he managed, somehow, to throw off at least some effects of the drug, and elbow Jadugarr in the face. The hunchback dropped him, swearing, and Adam managed to get away before Jadugarr could retaliate. He limped toward Ziox, who was slamming Ra'tane's head into a metal console. "No," he said to the scientist. "Because she's not my paramour. I think you'll find that the only kind of mistress Ra'tane might be is a sword mistress." He spoke truth- Ziox, distracted by Adam's recovery, had let his guard down somewhat. Ra'tane snaked her sword around his arm, to slash open his chest. Ziox recovered, but was very quickly overcome by Ra'tane. He fell backward onto the ground, blood trickling from his mouth. Eyes glazing over, his last breath leaked out.
Jadugarr had begun to run away, but Jack leveled a pistol at him, and fired. The bullet hit the erstwhile professor's assistant, and the hunchback slumped back against the computer mainframe. "You fools," he rasped out, "don't you see what you have... done? All... you have done is... give a minor obstacle for... progress. Ziox... Ziox was a great mind. His experiments would have... bettered all humanity. But what... What do you do? You fools kill him. You, with your... empty "morals," with your ideas of right and wrong… you just impede progress. Can't you… see, you fools?" With a final shudder, he whispered, "2D… press the… red button," and died.
Following orders, the robot pressed the large red button, the purpose of which had been unknown to Adam. However, like in so many movies, an electronic voice boomed throughout the building:
"Self-Destruct in… 60 seconds."
All of the mercenaries, Vincent, Jack, and Tom (Cartwright had not been present) promptly left the building. Ra'tane started to run, but turned back and saw that Adam had not moved. "Run!" she screamed.
"A big red button… starts the self-destruct? That's such a cliché!" he said.
"Yes, now run!"
"But… come on! Why is it always red? Why not blue, or green, or chartreuse?"
"Adam."
"Yes?"
"RUN." Ra'tane turned Adam around, and shoved him forward. Deciding that she had a point, he ran.
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 17
"Down!" someone cried. The small rescue party hit the dirt as pieces of shrapnel fell all around them. Professor Ziox's lab had exploded, almost immediately after Adam and Ra'tane had escaped. As the last remnants of countless years burned, the group slowly rose to their feet. Cartwright was approaching them, cane in hand. "I see most of you are still alive. That leaves... five of you mercenaries, Vincent, Jonathan, Thomas, Adam, Ra'tane, and myself. Only eleven of our original party. So many of the hired hands turned out to be so dispensable- what a pity. Well, I suppose we'd better hurry on, shouldn't we?"
Adam, his face somewhat charred from the fire, drew himself up to his full height. Shadows danced across the blackened countenance, giving a somewhat eerie tone to Adam's face. "You can just stop there," he quietly stated. "Were you the one that had to put up with being treated like an animal? I do not believe so. So before you go sending your pawns to do your work, listen up! I dunno how the others feel, but I’m not going to take another step until I'm fed and rested. Besides that, I want some information!"
"Very well," sniffed Cartwright. He snapped his fingers at Jack, and said, "Jonathan! Explain to the man what happened."
"I'm no servant," spat Jack. "And drop the formalities! We should be on first-name terms now. I know, I know, you were using my first name. But it's Jack, not Jonathan." Feeling that he had sufficiently "told off" Cartwright, he turned to Adam. "Here's pretty much what happened. We started to get worried after you left, and-"
"Whoa, you were worried about me? How touching!" interrupted Adam. Jack just snorted, and continued. "And we wanted to look for you. Your wife and Tom were the driving forces in that movement. Vincent didn't want to look at all. Cartwright acted as if you were his lost tool."
Tom interrupted now. "And what about you, Jack? You very nicely left yourself out of that. Don't try to shove the blame on others! You weren't gonna look for him either. 'It's hopeless,' I think you said. If it were up to Jackie here, you'd still be lost, Adam! Or dead."
"What it came down to," said Ra'tane, "was that we'd look for you as soon as morning came. So we made our way to a nice little town, and stayed the night. That morning, we set out again, and started tracking you. We started off by going back where we had been, and spiraling out from there. We found a bush not too far away, and there was a bit of blood on the ground." Shuddering, she said, "I didn't want to think what might have happened. Your captors were careless- they left quite a trail behind. Broken branches, footprints, and lines where someone had been dragged. It wasn't too long before-"
Standing up, Vincent broke in. "Oy! I'm being treated like a criminal here! Ever since we started this God-forsaken trip, I've been pretty well ignored. I have feelings too, you know! What would you have done, Adam, if I'd been left behind? Mortals have limits! We all know fear, don't you remember? I don't know how lizard-men feel, but at least us Humans know it! I only didn't want to look for you 'cause I thought it'd waste our time! You wouldn't want that, would you?"
Adam held up his hands, as if shielding himself from the torrent of conversation. "Whoa! Stop! I didn't want speeches, I just want to know what happened while I was gone. So after you started tracking me... I guess you found Ziox's lab. Then came the rescue, right?"
"That does sum up what happened," confirmed Cartwright. "Now, are we finished with the past? We have quite a road ahead of us. Even though it wasn't far from our campsite, that laboratory was directly the opposite direction of where we wanted to go. I know of a village up ahead." An odd expression crossed his face, and he said, "They have a strict central government, but that shouldn't be too much of a problem. The village is directly north of where we are now. If we want to get there by nightfall, we'd better hurry along."
Sighing, Adam grudgingly agreed. He still wanted food, but it was obvious that he wasn't going to get it where they were. Silently disciplining his muscles to stop complaining, he followed along the rear of the party. His sword had, of course, been taken from him, but he would probably be able to get another one in the next town.
The walk to the town was entirely uneventful. However, once they arrived at the town, their breath was taken away. Dominating all was a Baroque-style chapel, looming over the entire town. It was more like a palace, in fact. Tom grinned half-heartedly and turned to Cartwright. "You... uh, said there was a strong central government. It wouldn't happen to be a theocracy, would it?"
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 18
It was an odd day for Tom. He had always known that the Church had been a large part of medićval peasants, but that had been what was known as the Catholic church, which this was not. It certainly wasn't Protestant, Islamic, Judaic, Hindu, Buddhist, or even Taoist. In fact, it didn't look like any religion that ever had occurred on Earth. Which makes sense, realized Tom. This isn't Earth, why should they play by our rules? "Hey, Adam."
"Yes?" replied his acquaintance, who was in his half-lizard form.
"What kind of religion do people follow around here? That's some fancy chapel."
"Well, a lot of people are Lorian... But that is not Lorian."
Tom nodded. "Alright, thanks for the info." But what is it? Even a native doesn't know what it is. Maybe some localized deity? As the group started off into town, Tom was still wondering what it could be.
The town was stranger still inside. There were no horses, no wagons, and only a handful of people. I guess they're at church, but it's noon! Most of the rest of the group were curious as well, except for Vincent, who merely wanted food. They made their way further into the city, but the number of people actually lessened. Finally, Ra'tane stopped one of the peasants who was walking by. "Where is everyone?" she asked.
"You don't know? You must be a stranger. They're out practicing wi Htaif, te Retsi!" The peasant smiled up at her, almost with condescension. "Wer wi bonu pu Htaifa, you should go. It's to your left, then straight on through there. Hurry, they're almost having the midday meal!"
Glancing at him with a half-smile, Tom asked, "Why aren't you out practicing this... Htaif, was it?"
"It is my duty to tend the crops today, te Retso. Tomorrow it will be someone else's. I will receive the Message later." With a wave, the peasant walked on, pulling a wagonload of produce behind him.
"Shouldn't he have some animals to do that for him?" asked one of the mercenaries. Tom looked at him in surprise. "How'd you know about that? You mercenary type look as though you haven't read a book in your life."
"Well, I did find the past summat interesting," shrugged the mercenary. "So, I asked Mr. Cartwright here about it, he told me lots o' stuff. More stuff than I can remember, in fact. He's real smart, you should talk to 'em sometime. But, we gotta go right now." Once again, the group started forward, this time toward the large chapel. It was quite an ornate building, gilded and trimmed in silver. What were they thinking? wondered Tom. Trying to out-spend the Taj Mahal? I know that gold's much more abundant in this planet, but this must have cost… However much a bunch of money is here!
They had not been walking long before they were unable to move any further. The road was blocked- by people. A massive crowd had gathered, as far as half a mile away from the chapel, to listen to someone speaking. As the group got closer to the Speaker, they heard him (for it was male) finishing up a speech in a strange tongue.
"... wer wi bonu pu Htaifa, yem et op menso. That is the Message for today. The midday meal may now begin, te Retsia der Retsoa." As one, the crowd echoed, "Wer wi bonu pu Htaifa, yem et op menso!" Then, they all sat upon the ground, and bowls were passed around. Adam, Ra'tane, Tom, Jack, Vincent, Cartwright, and the five mercenaries were the only ones left standing; they looked quite out of place. However, the Speaker noticed them almost immediately; they looked quite different from the peasants. Picking his way carefully around the eating masses, he made his way towards them.
The Speaker was quite an ornate figure: he was dressed in as much gold as the chapel. Obviously, he didn't hold with the Earthen tradition of fasting, as his stomach protruded o much further out than his chest. A broad smile split his face- but why did Tom receive a feeling of dread around him? Was it because this man represented a new religion, or something else...?
"Te Retsi, te Retsoa! I have not seen your faces here before." He looked especially long at Ra'tane and Adam, who was in his Drakel form. "I must admit, your garb is quite unknown to me... Especially that of our reptilian Retsu. Do you make a pilgrimage here, Retsu?"
"Er... no," replied Adam, backing away slightly. "By the way, you seem to use that word a lot. What is a Retsi or Retso or Retsu, anyway?"
"Oh!" exclaimed the Speaker. "Allow me to explain. In the Common Tongue, Retsi means Sister, Retso brother, and Retsu is used for addressing a group of men and women. If someone says te Retsu, they are saying 'my siblings.' Wer wi bonu pu Htaifa, yem et op menso, which you may have heard by now, means, 'In the name of Htaifa, may you be blessed.' Htaif means 'faith,' or 'message.' I am wi Htaifo, the Messenger."
"Uh-huh," said Tom. "That's, uh... very nice. Could you accommodate eleven travellers? We're rather tired."
"Of course, te Retso!" The Htaifo smiled again- but did his eyes narrow?
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 19
Tom woke, his head pounding. What had happened earlier? He tried to stretch, as his limbs were sore, but found that he could not move them- they were chained to the wall. This is how Adam must have felt, he thought. But where am I? It was hard to think. His brain was attempting to force its way out of his skull, and his thoughts were fuzzy.
The smiling face of the Htaifo was suddenly in his field of vision. "How are you feeling?" asked the large "Messenger." His face was full of understanding and pity. "Drink this, it will clear your mind, te Retso." He held a small bottle in front of Tom's face, then poured it down his mouth. It tasted ghastly, and Tom nearly gagged. However, his mind was cleared in about a minute, so he was rather grateful. "Where... Where am I?" he managed to gasp out.
"Why, you are in the Salvation Room!" laughed the Htaifo. "If you accept the ways of the Htaifa, then you will be saved!"
"And if not?" Tom had nothing against organized religion, but he didn't want it to be thrown at him. If he was going to belong to a faith, he'd have to believe in it first. Then, for the first time that Tom had seen, the Htaifo scowled. "If you don't? We will convince you." He unfurled a long cat-o'-nine-tails. "So please, accept it. We don't really enjoy this."
Tom's eyes widened, not in fear, but anger. "What the ---- is this? The Spanish Inquisition? Sadist! Get away from me!" The last statement was a pointless, overused one, but it was the best that he could think of in his fury and fear. Yes, he had fear now- not the fear of death, but the fear of pain. Pain, when applied in large amounts- is far worse than death.
The faux priest shook his head. "I cannot, for my conscience's sake, do so. It pains me to know that someone would have to go through eternal pain. It is much better to put them through some mortal pain than to know that they will suffer through eternal spiritual pain."
"I've got my own religion!" bellowed Tom. "And I'll keep it, rather than accept your-" His last words were cut off by a howl of pain, as the whip cracked across his bare chest.
"You really should consider conversion," sighed the Htaifo. "It would greatly assist you. The pain will stop, if you'll just accept logic!"
"Logic!?" Tom roared. "Logic? It's logical to submit to every instance of pressure you receive? No! It's no more logical to blindly accept religion as it is to blindly accept government! I'll accept religion if-" (here he screamed again) "if I believe in it, not because I'm told to!"
"How truly sad!" The priest looked as though he were near to tears. "I find it truly, deeply depressing when a man- or woman- refuses to accept wi Htaif."
"And I suppose you're the cult leader?" panted Tom. "How long have you been misleading these peasants?"
"Misleading? Nay, I do not mislead! You are misled, my little fool!" Once again, he smiled benevolently down at Tom, who was blood-streaked and breathing heavily. "Why do you remain so stubbornly heretical?" Sighing, as though it pained him to do it, he crossed the whip against Tom again.
Tom, near to losing consciousness, muttered, "I'm a heretic, am I? We'll just see who burns, when you're dead!" Then, a hand grasped his chin, and his head was pulled to look up at the "Messenger," who smiled kindly, and punched Tom between the eyes, rendering him unconscious.
***
Dhes sat near the window, sipping his tea. He watched the sun come over the hill, remarking on how inspiring it was. However, it was now time for chores. He put on his mantle, the cloth rustling softly. He slipped a coil of leather into one of the deep pockets, and proceeded to head downstairs. Dhes ran his hand against the cool stone wall. His steps echoed in the stairwell, and his mouth formed a taut, grim line.
Yes, it was time. The poor heretics needed more convincing, more coaxing, then they might begin to accept the faith. Ah, if only he had begun when he was younger! Then, it would be possible that he would live to see the entire world converted! What a paradise that would be!
The first for today was going to be a slim, angular man. What did he call himself? Ryuusei? Yes, that was it. He had been quite troublesome yesterday. In fact, he had two of the Initiates quite confused, and Dhes himself had to console them. The man had a strange belief, something about purification through demolition. And he had a very convincing voice, according to the Initiates. Similar to Dhes', supposedly. That, of course, was impossible. Htaifa had given Dhes his power, and Htaifa had given it to no other. Of that, Dhes was certain. Many things in life could be debated, but not that.
"How are you feeling?" asked Dhes. It was the same thing that he had asked one of the other men, yesterday.
"Fine," smiled Ryuusei. "It is so stimulating to have debates on religion- I suppose you are the instigator of all of this?"
"Yes," replied Dhes. "But there is no instigation. Only truth. Do you yet accept that Truth?"
"No," replied Cartwright. "I do not."
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 20
"Do you yet repent!?" bellowed the acolyte. Spit splattered over Tom's face, and he growled in combined disgust and anger. "I do not!" roared Tom in reply. "I have nothing to repent to your god for! I do not believe in your god, nor will I ever!"
"Fool! Craven, disgusting fool! Do you not yet see that you will be in eternal death if you do not?"
"Do you not see that you'll burn in Hell for the things you've done? You're a sadist! This is as bad as the Spanish Inquisition!" They had been in this gridlock for over an hour now; the only pauses had been for the acolyte to whip Tom. Now, though, the cat o' nine tails was on the ground, and it was a pure shouting match. Tom didn't know much about theology, but he did know enough to argue with the hopeful priest.
"Prove that your god exists!" challenged Tom.
"Prove that yours does!" returned the acolyte. Tom gave him a savage grin, and said, "Alright. Somewhere over three-hundred billion years ago, the universe as we know it was smaller than..." He searched for a good simile, then found one. "Smaller than a tiny drop of ink."
"You lie!" snorted the acolyte. "Everyone knows Htaifa created the universe!"
"Look. You have your beliefs, hundreds of thousands of other people have ours. Anyway, this tiny drop of ink sized universe is where we all were. Suddenly, a huge explosion happened out in space, and-"
"Space? What? Strange blasphemies you've learned."
Ignoring him, Tom continued. "A huge explosion happened, and the universe became much, much bigger. It may or may not be as big as it is now, depending on whether you believe in an open or closed universe, but... Anyway, the point is, it got somewhere around as big as it is now. Do you follow?"
"No, I wouldn't follow you into a pit filled with sweetmeats. But go on."
"Whatever. As I was saying, it got a ton bigger. Big ol' chunks of rock, metal ore, minerals, and stuff like that started floating off into space. The bigger ones pulled the smaller ones around them, into a thing called orbit."
"How?" This time, it was not a challenge, but a sincere question. The acolyte's face expressed true confusion.
"Through a thing called gravity. Gravity is why we walk around on Earth- er, Lore- and why we fall down, not up. It's also why we go around stars, which we call 'suns.'"
"Again, you speak strangely. We don't go around stars! They go around us!"
"Where's Galileo when you need him?" muttered Tom. "Believe me- we go around the sun. Planets use this gravity thing to make other, smaller chunks of rock- moons- go around them. They also keep us down, and keep the atmosphere- air- here. Make sense?"
"None whatsoever. But, it is interesting. Continue."
"Okay... When a planet starts out, there are only bacteria... uh, really small things on it. Then, those evolve into bigger, smarter things. After that, those breed, grow, get smarter, and evolve even more."
"What is it to evolve?"
"Evolution is the idea that if weak things get killed, the better ones will pass on the things that make them strong to their children. About a million years ago, Humans evolved on my home planet."
"You mean you're not from Lore?"
"No." Tom gave him a sideways glance. "What makes you think that I am? I came from a place... Really far away. Think of how far it is from here to the next town. Now think of that times a few billion. Don't try to understand! We can't. We just have to accept it."
"Like we have to accept religion!" beamed the acolyte.
"No. We have to question religion or government before we accept it, otherwise someone'll come up and change it on us. We have to question scientific stuff, too- otherwise, we'd all still be where we were two-hundred years ago."
"Very well," sighed the acolyte. "But what does this have to do with religion?"
"Somebody or something must have made us. It's technically possible for us to have evolved on our own, but even the Human eyeball is too complex for there to be much of a chance of us ever evolving like that. Therefore, it follows that an omnipotent being would have done it."
"Yes, yes, but why not Htaifa?"
"Because," said Tom, "people who follow my faith have a little book to read. It was written hundreds of years ago, and at least two other religions believe in the first part. That's most of the proof we need."
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 21
Maniacal laughter, mixed with screams, issued from Salvation Room IV. That was the one with the half-Drakel man in it. Dhes sighed, and once more stood up. Placing the faux miter on his head, he took his scepter and strode toward the cell.
Throwing open the door, Dhes bellowed, "What in Htaifa's name is going on!?" When he looked around, however, he answered his own question. Two of the priests were thrown against the wall, bloodied and unconscious. The half-Drakel man (whose name Dhes could not remember) crouched nearby, chains around his arms and a mad grin on his face. His knuckles were blood-stained, but not with the half-Drakel warrior's own blood. It looked at the Htaifo, and said, "What now? Gonna quote some of your God-forsaken 'scripture' at me?"
Dhes grabbed up a long, curved knife from the wall. It was tempered steel, forged into a sinewy shape. That didn't affect its efficiency in battle, but it did help to play "mind games" with one's adversary. "Scripture could not save your damned soul," he said, mimicking regret. In truth, he had been waiting for a good pretense to kill the abomination. "Now, pray only that Htaifa is forgiving."
Adam was fully prepared to fight, even though he was unarmed. However, he never got the chance- three black-clad figures stepped behind Dhes, and made a swift cutting motion. The Htaifo collapsed to the ground, dead. Looking up, one of the figures removed their hood.
It was Ra'tane. She had angled her head so that her snout was not apparent, and the black outfit, which Adam had taken to be a shinobi-shozoku, was actually a loose robe. Adam stared for a moment, jaw slack. Ra'tane spoke first, however. "Not enough time to explain. These are the good guys here. Come on."
Adam did as he was told, snatching up Dhes' knife and kicking the body. "Sorry, looks like you'll have to wait a few years to find out what happens to my soul!" I hope. However, he turned his attention to the knife. This doesn't exactly make up for my broadsword, but it'll have to do for now.
Before long, the others were rescued as well. Tom was the most bruised, and he looked exceedingly grateful to be rescued. Cartwright looked more annoyed than anything else, as if the entire capture had been nothing more than a mere waste of time. Vincent was sweaty and shaking, his eyes flicking from one corner of the room to the next. Jack just looked angered at the entire world. Finally, Tom spoke. "What's with the ninjas over there?"
"We are not Ninjas!" sighed the taller one. "Why does everyone think that? We're the priests from the old church. Whenever that... Dhes took over, we were exiled, along with any others who didn't convert. The rest became fanatics, devoting every bit of their lives to the new church."
"Uh-huh. And you just happened to be stealthy warriors, who apparently don't have too many qualms about killing people?" Tom had inflected as much sarcasm as he could into his voice.
"Yes!" replied the shorter priest, smiling. "But we actually do have qualms about killing people. In this case, however, we made an exception. We decided to finally take action when we saw her-" (he indicated Ra'tane) "-running from the city. We knew that there weren't any Drakel in the town, and we strongly doubted that any interbreeding whatsoever had occurred. Therefore, they had obviously done something to her."
"Hey..." Vincent shifted, uncomfortable. "I don't know too much about this- what did Robert call it? Puhswaydoh-Midevil?- stuff, but isn't it kind of weird that no-one's tried to kill us yet? In all the books I read, they always came up and attacked just as the main characters were talking."
"Yeah, but this isn't a book, now is it?" Adam sneered. Then, he flashed his new weapon up to parry a sword blow that had been swung down at his head. The priests serving under the late Dhes had apparently found out about the rescue party, and were launching a counter-attack to kill the group. Adam then grabbed the arm that was holding the sword, and stabbed the person to whom the arm belonged. He tossed the weapon behind him, hoping one of the others would catch it.
Tom caught the sword, then caught an attacker. Unfortunately, due to Tom's lack of training, the priest managed to wrestle out of Tom's grip, and begin to twist Tom's arm up behind his back. Howling in pain, Tom aimed a low kick at his attacker, and caused considerable pain. He then burrowed his thumb into the fleshy joint between the attacker's forearm and upper arm. The attacker's eyes bulged, but he managed not to scream.
Tom had never killed anyone. He had never even considered it; there had never before been cause to. Now, though, he had reason to, and a way to do so. If he let the priest go, then his conscience would be clear. However, the priest might kill Tom or one of the others. So, Tom had a choice. He could either kill the man now, and have blood on his hands, or he could not kill the priest, and risk being killed himself. Tom might not have had so much of a problem if the priest had still been attacking him, but now he faced an unarmed opponent. Imagine if the honor code still existed, thought Tom. Finally, after what seemed like minutes, but was really only ten seconds, Tom squeezed his eyes shut, and plunged the sword into the priest.
***
The group managed to escape from the village, and the two ex-priests led the way into the renegades' hideout. Here, the group would find shelter and food. Tom entered last, however. He stared at the ground, downcast and upset.
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 22
"We really have to do something about this church!" insisted Adam. "It's making the entire village into a militant theocracy- they preach against the use of force, yet they also say to crush the oppositional faiths!"
"Yes," said Ra'tane, "but we can't just come in and say, 'Well, your old church is back. Start being Lorian again!' It's up to the people to accept the new government."
"Haven't they already done that?" laughed Cartwright. "They seem to be very happy to just accept whatever new thing comes along, if it doesn't disturb their daily lives too much."
"But it does disturb their daily lives!" protested Tom. "When they cease to care, then wham! their religion or government is gone."
"No-one back on Earth seems to care when that happens," put in Jack. "Why should people here on Lore be any different?"
"Uh... I don't know for sure, but what if they just aren't developed enough to know about that kind of stuff yet? Normally, there's a good reason for medieval governments to be taken over- the other army was bigger or stronger," mentioned Vincent.
"However," sighed the taller priest, "as Ra'tane said, the people have to accept it. Even though we're- what was it?- medieval, we have taught people about free choice. What bemuses me is why they don't exercise that power!"
"People around here tend to flock to religious ideas," shrugged the shorter priest. "That's not exactly bad in and of itself, but people often warp and twist religion into things it's not, or at least shouldn't be- like government."
"Yeah," said Adam, as the conversation had gone full circle back to him. It had done so quite literally- they were sitting at a circular table, within the underground base of the ex-priests. "But what are we going to do about it, if it's up to the people, but they won't lift a hand to help themselves?"
"Well... I suppose the people wouldn't mind a bit of incentive," said Ra'tane, an evil grin spreading on her face.
***
They stood on a wooden platform, high above the town. Adam, Ra'tane, Tom, Jack, and the two priests each a weapon to the throat of a false priest. They had broken into the church that night- after eliminating the guard- and captured the priests. It wasn't very hard, as the priests had been busily holding a strange funeral ritual for Dhes. Jack, who was the largest of the group, had slammed himself into the door three times, knocking the lock off. The priests had been unarmed, and weren't a problem for the group. "It's hard to believe," Adam had remarked at the time, "that this all started with us going to see Cartwright's employer."
"It is indeed," Ra'tane had replied. "At times, I had forgotten exactly what we were going after."
Now, the priests were on trial. "These false priests have murdered, stolen, assaulted, and done many other crimes. Now, they await your judgment! Shall they live or die?"
The priests, however, were not going to go quietly. One shouted, "The blasphemers lie! This is a ploy to sow the seeds of discord in your town! They are the murderers; they killed the beloved Htaifo! Their ringleader holds the Htaifo's sacred knife at this very moment, about to soil it with bloodshed!"
The crowd was beginning to shift uneasily. The old priests were saying that the new priests were blasphemers. The new priests were saying that the old priests were blasphemers. It was very confusing.
"Come on!" shouted Ra'tane. "You've been letting your town be run by these fake priests! Take control! Do something!"
"See!" retorted another false priest. "See how they seek to confuse you! They wish to put thoughts in your mind that you have the capability to govern yourselves, without the guiding hand of wi Htaif! You know this to be untrue! Look within yourselves!"
"Back where I come from," growled Jack, "that happens everywhere. I'm not much of a religious guy, but I know a bit about government- enough to know that the more directly the people influence it, the happier they are."
"Not so!" cried a third priest. "Not so! You may be happy, yes, but you will soon fall to anarchy and bloodshed! There will be no peace; babes will be slaughtered while they sleep! You will slit one another's throats as soon as look at each other! Make your choice- save us, or save the blasphemers!"
Peasants began to fling rocks and other hard objects toward the platform. Adam and the others were relieved- then they realized the rocks were coming toward them. "Fine!" he snarled, raising his voice above the crowd. "Keep your cult leaders! Keep yourselves under the whip! But when you wake up later and find that your back is bleeding, remember that it's your fault!" With that, the priests were kicked back into the crowd, and the group fled from the village.
The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior
Chapter 23
"That puts us... Well! We're actually quite close to Cradk!" said Adam. They had been studying a map, attempting to find out where they now were. Apparently, the town was quite close to Cradk Cavern; it would only take an hour or so to get there. Unfortunately, the mercenaries had decided to quit the mission, as they decided that it was too dangerous for them. That left them with no way to get back to Earth, so it was not an intelligent decision, but the decision was made, nevertheless.
"God, I wish I hadn't made this trip," whined Vincent. "My feet hurt, I was whipped brutally, and my nerves are shot! I shouldn't be doing this!"
"And who was the one wanting to be employed?" snapped Ra'tane. Everyone was in bad spirits since the theocratic village, Tom in particular. He was sitting by himself in a corner, constantly reliving the experience of killing a human being. It horrified him, and made him question his own morals. So, when it was announced that they were going to begin the final leg of the journey, he brightened a little. Perhaps he would be able to stop concentrating on his kill, at least while they hiked.
The group- reduced to Adam, Ra'tane, Tom, Jack, Vincent, and Cartwright- started off northeast. The land was a plain, with no trees whatsoever. It seemed to stretch on forever, except for a haze in the distance, which was Cradk. No-one in the group had ever actually seen Cradk, so each had their own opinion as to what it might look like. Adam thought it might be a huge, complex cavern system. Ra'tane envisioned a cave full of gems, stalactites, and stalagmites. Tom imagined a gaping hole, filled with bats and other such creatures. Jack visualized a water-flooded, half-submerged cave. Vincent pictured that it might be in the shape of a skull or mythic animal. Cartwright, not one for envisaging, just expected a big slab of rock with an entrance. His mind was much more occupied by how best to introduce the group to his employer.
It wouldn't matter how I introduce that fool Vincent to The`Galin, but the rest of them seem somewhat more intelligent. Thomas or Jonathan wouldn't be much more difficult than Vincent. I believe that the Drakel woman- Ra'tane?- is most likely the most wise. It could be Adam, but he seems... Over-zealous? Yes, that's the best way to describe it. Then again, that might be a good trait for serving The`Galin, so I must be careful in presenting him. Yes, decided Cartwright, I have it figured out.
"So, what were we going to do in Cradk again?" asked Jack.
"Vincent here wants to meet Cartwright's employer, and Cartwright said that his employer might want to meet me," replied Adam. Under his breath, he added, "And he'd better offer good pay."
***
"We're... finally there!" panted Jack. Cradk Cavern loomed over their heads, shadowing a huge portion of the ground. It didn't quite meet any of their expectations, except perhaps Cartwright's. It was a rather large cave, but it was actually rather plain. "Anyone got a match?" asked Tom. No-one did, so they descended into darkness.
"It's dark," noted Vincent. "And slimy. And scary. And I want to go home."
"Oh, shut up!" groaned Jack. "Act your age!"
"Quiet, both of you!" said Cartwright. "The`Galin is nearby." He knelt, and called out into the gloom: "Master, I have come! I bring you the man Vincent, and another."
YOU BRING ANOTHER? boomed a voice. It didn't seem to come from anywhere, but it reverberated endlessly inside everyone's mind. WHO IS THIS THAT YOU BRING FORTH, CARTWRIGHT?
"Can I go now!?" shrilled Vincent in terror. Cartwright ignored him, and continued. "His name is Adam, I thought that you might wish to... Hire him."
VERY WELL. BRING FORTH THE VINCENT, said the disembodied voice. Cartwright stood and shoved Vincent forward, who was busily muttering, "Come on, there's gotta be a little man behind a curtain. There's gotta be a little man behind a curtain!"
Obviously displeased, the voice questioned, THIS IS WHAT YOU BRING BEFORE ME, CARTWRIGHT? I AM DISAPPOINTED. THE QUALITY OF THE MORTALS WHICH YOU BRING BEFORE ME IS DIMINISHING. NAETHELESS, SEND HIM TO ME. A cloud of smoke materialized in one corner of the cave, and Vincent shambled over to where it was. Though the group could not longer hear the booming voice, they could hear Vincent's timid answers.
"Y-yes, sir... What? Oh, yes, sir... No, sir... Do I believe in what?... No, please! No!" Vincent was shoved, wild-eyed, out of the cloud of gas. HE IS NOT WORTHY! said The`Galin. Vincent shoved himself into a sitting position, and said, "No, master! Let me try again!" With that, he ran back into the cloud of smoke.
Seconds later, a blur flew out of the cloud of smoke, and slammed into the rock wall. Adam and Ra'tane ran to it, and it turned out to be Vincent's remains. He was laying in his own blood, his neck broken. His arms were splayed out on either side of him, at inhuman angles. Vincent's unseeing, dull eyes were widened with fear and disgust, and his mouth was twisted into a convoluted grimace.
Tom, upon seeing the horrible corpse, gave a muffled choking sound, and vomited. He then pulled out his gun and pointed it, shaking, at Cartwright. "What... What have you done!? Why did you bring him here? Why did he had to die!?"
"Fool," sneered Cartwright. "It was his own doing, not mine! Jonathan, take care of Thomas."
"I'm not your servant," snapped Jack, but he pointed his gun at Tom anyway. Adam ran forward and grabbed Jack, holding a knife to his throat, and Ra'tane made a move for Cartwright, who pulled some sort of gun from his own coat jacket, and pointed it at her. "Clumsy Terran weapons," he grumbled. "Master, would you mind?"
YES, replied The`Galin. IF YOU ARE NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO DEAL WITH THE SITUATION ACCORDINGLY, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SERVE ME. With that, the smoke disappeared, and a portal opened where it had been.
No-one could make a move, for only Adam was not targeted, and he was busy restraining Jack, who was pivotal to the situation. He and Adam had nearly been friends, so he might be convinced to join Adam's side. "Jack," muttered Adam into his ear, "give up. It's obvious that you can't gain anything by serving The`Galin, so just move your gun over to Cartwright."
"And why should I trust you?" asked Jack. "First, you're not even Human, and second, you're holding a knife to my throat!"
"I am Human," protested Adam. "Even if I don't look it all the time, I am. My mind, except for muscle control, is exactly the same as a Drakel. So if you'll just shoot Cartwright, then all this fighting will end."
"Alright, let's say you are still Human. How do I know that you're not working against the good side?"
"Well," said Adam, "The`Galin killed Vincent in cold blood. Would a good person do that?"
"We both agree that Vincent was a scumbag, though," pointed out Jack. "The`Galin might have done it for good."
"Yes, but I don't think a good guy would just kill a bad guy in cold blood!"
"Then why do you want me to kill Cartwright?" asked Jack.
"Because he's threatening my wife, you idiot!" snarled Adam. "At least stop pointing your gun at Tom."
"How do I know that you and your wife aren't deceived?"
"Take it on faith! Do you remember how it was back on Earth?"
"What does that-"
"Do you remember?" repeated Adam.
"Yeah, I guess so. But still, what does that have to do with anything?" asked Jack.
"Did you trust me back on Earth?" demanded Adam.
"I... I..." stammered Jack.
"It's kind of important! Did you trust me?"
"Yes!" shouted Jack.
"Then trust me now," pleaded Adam. "Please."
Slowly, Jack moved his gun's barrel to the left, pointing it at Cartwright. Cartwright smirked, and said only, "At least you two are done with that idiotic conversation. Good-bye!" With that, he tossed his cane at Jack and Adam, then bolted aside to avoid Tom's shot. The cane struck Jack, who was still holding Adam, and the two were temporarily paralyzed. Cartwright ran for the portal, and managed to get most of himself in before Tom shot him. It only hit Cartwright's leg, though, and Cartwright still managed to escape. Jack, no longer paralyzed, got up and attempted to give chase. For some reason, there was now a long gash on his head where the cane had hit him, and a similar one traveling up Adam's arm. This caused Jack to sway, rock, and finally collapse again. He could do nothing more than watch as the portal closed, cutting off Cartwright from any danger.
Ra'tane and Tom picked up Adam and Jack, carrying them out of the cave. The two were unconscious, but Jack had never felt quite as much of a sense of accomplishment as he did right before he gave in to exhaustion.
Thank you for reading The Saga of Half-Drakel Warrior.
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