Lykan
2006-09-20, 09:08 PM
“It’s our third day brother… Where the hell is the city?”
Kel’ma grumbles at his sibling’s impatience, watching the horizon of the desert with narrowed eyes from the front of the merchant’s cart.
“It’s only a matter of time, Mulkoth… We just entered Kun’rem’ei valley… We’re not far from Duskblade now…”
“Good, because-… Wait, Kun’rem’ei? The valley of demons?”
Kel’ma nods, and his brother snickers.
“Heh… Can we expect what the stories tell us? Twisted creatures leaping out of the sands and eating our souls? Waves of light parting the sands? Ghost ships!?”
Mulkoth roars with laughter, but his brother remains silent, wincing a bit.
“What? Scared? Is a grand trader of the wastes afraid of ghosts?”
Mulkoth taunts his brother for several miles into the valley, the blood colored sun beating down overhead.
“You can’t believe such an obvious fairy tale! It’s just a group of raiders that attack in the sandst-”
Mulkoth stops, staring at something beyond the next dune. Kel’ma looks back at his brother.
“What is it?”
“Looks like the remains of a bandit's attack… Look.”
Mulkoth points down to a group of shattered merchant carts, half buried in the sands. Kel’ma stops the cart, and they both leap off to inspect the damage. Bodies sticking out of the sand look burnt, skewered, or otherwise crushed. Mulkoth kneels down by what seems to be one of the merchant’s guards.
“Hey… Check this one out.”
He lifts the dead guard out of the sand slightly, pointing to two small holes in the man’s throat, nearly three inches apart. Kel’ma looks at the corpse with raised eyebrows.
“Looks like a snakebite…”
“Snake? The thing would have been huge! Look how far apart the fangs are!”
Kel’ma shrugs, and then spots something black sticking out of another carcass. He walks over cautiously, leaning over the body before recoiling slightly. Within the heart of the human merchant lay a piece of papyrus paper, with a black ritualistic knife stabbed through it. Words of a foreign language are written in red ink upon it in scrawled text. Mulkoth walks over in curiosity and eyes the note.
“What’s it say?”
Kel’ma bites his lip, trying to make out the text.
“Jah’ea huram ma’os nie’ra…”
Mulkoth raises an eyebrow.
“What the hell does tha-”
“It means,” a female voice calls out from behind them, “We shall reclaim our holy land.”
Both brothers jump at the sound of the newcomer, turning around immediately and revealing a human woman with short, brass colored hair.
“Now…” she hisses, “You have interrupted a ritual ridding these foreigner souls from our land. Personally, I’d off you now, but Captain needs some sacrifices to make this work, and unfortunately the raid didn’t go as expected…”
Both brothers’ eyes widen in fear, and Mulkoth turns to run.
“Ah ah ah… None of that.”
Out of the sands erupts a small lead ball, ripping through the back of Mulkoth’s knee. He cries out and falls to the earth, bleeding profusely.
“Thanks, Kobos. As for you,” the woman turns to Kel’ma, “you can suffer a much less painful death then your brother there if you just do what we say…”
She snaps her fingers, and a stream of vipers burst from the ground, surrounding Kel’ma completely in a ring of snakes. Gulping, he turns to see a small beaked creature dig itself out of the sand and drag the body of his brother back to the area of wreckage. The woman turns and yells across the field of debris.
“Captain! We found some!”
A gust of wind kicks up a flurry of sand, out of which two jackal-like creatures step out. A shorter and older looking one rubs his hands together, then dips them both into pouches on his belt, taking them out again when they are covered in a red dust. He then reaches out and runs his bony claws over both brothers faces, marking their faces with lines of blood colored sand before retreating and chanting a hymn in an archaic tongue.
“Wha-… What’s-”
The larger jackal creature pulls out a monstrous looking spiked chain from under his cloak, and swinging it so it wraps around the bodies of both of the brothers, though doesn’t pierce the skin.
“What are you-…”
The older jackal man stops chanting, and nods to the larger one.
“The rest is yours, Captain.”
The large jackal man grins, and his eyes glow red.
“Jah’ea huram ma’os nie’ra!”
The brothers' screams were lost in the howling desert wind…
Kel’ma grumbles at his sibling’s impatience, watching the horizon of the desert with narrowed eyes from the front of the merchant’s cart.
“It’s only a matter of time, Mulkoth… We just entered Kun’rem’ei valley… We’re not far from Duskblade now…”
“Good, because-… Wait, Kun’rem’ei? The valley of demons?”
Kel’ma nods, and his brother snickers.
“Heh… Can we expect what the stories tell us? Twisted creatures leaping out of the sands and eating our souls? Waves of light parting the sands? Ghost ships!?”
Mulkoth roars with laughter, but his brother remains silent, wincing a bit.
“What? Scared? Is a grand trader of the wastes afraid of ghosts?”
Mulkoth taunts his brother for several miles into the valley, the blood colored sun beating down overhead.
“You can’t believe such an obvious fairy tale! It’s just a group of raiders that attack in the sandst-”
Mulkoth stops, staring at something beyond the next dune. Kel’ma looks back at his brother.
“What is it?”
“Looks like the remains of a bandit's attack… Look.”
Mulkoth points down to a group of shattered merchant carts, half buried in the sands. Kel’ma stops the cart, and they both leap off to inspect the damage. Bodies sticking out of the sand look burnt, skewered, or otherwise crushed. Mulkoth kneels down by what seems to be one of the merchant’s guards.
“Hey… Check this one out.”
He lifts the dead guard out of the sand slightly, pointing to two small holes in the man’s throat, nearly three inches apart. Kel’ma looks at the corpse with raised eyebrows.
“Looks like a snakebite…”
“Snake? The thing would have been huge! Look how far apart the fangs are!”
Kel’ma shrugs, and then spots something black sticking out of another carcass. He walks over cautiously, leaning over the body before recoiling slightly. Within the heart of the human merchant lay a piece of papyrus paper, with a black ritualistic knife stabbed through it. Words of a foreign language are written in red ink upon it in scrawled text. Mulkoth walks over in curiosity and eyes the note.
“What’s it say?”
Kel’ma bites his lip, trying to make out the text.
“Jah’ea huram ma’os nie’ra…”
Mulkoth raises an eyebrow.
“What the hell does tha-”
“It means,” a female voice calls out from behind them, “We shall reclaim our holy land.”
Both brothers jump at the sound of the newcomer, turning around immediately and revealing a human woman with short, brass colored hair.
“Now…” she hisses, “You have interrupted a ritual ridding these foreigner souls from our land. Personally, I’d off you now, but Captain needs some sacrifices to make this work, and unfortunately the raid didn’t go as expected…”
Both brothers’ eyes widen in fear, and Mulkoth turns to run.
“Ah ah ah… None of that.”
Out of the sands erupts a small lead ball, ripping through the back of Mulkoth’s knee. He cries out and falls to the earth, bleeding profusely.
“Thanks, Kobos. As for you,” the woman turns to Kel’ma, “you can suffer a much less painful death then your brother there if you just do what we say…”
She snaps her fingers, and a stream of vipers burst from the ground, surrounding Kel’ma completely in a ring of snakes. Gulping, he turns to see a small beaked creature dig itself out of the sand and drag the body of his brother back to the area of wreckage. The woman turns and yells across the field of debris.
“Captain! We found some!”
A gust of wind kicks up a flurry of sand, out of which two jackal-like creatures step out. A shorter and older looking one rubs his hands together, then dips them both into pouches on his belt, taking them out again when they are covered in a red dust. He then reaches out and runs his bony claws over both brothers faces, marking their faces with lines of blood colored sand before retreating and chanting a hymn in an archaic tongue.
“Wha-… What’s-”
The larger jackal creature pulls out a monstrous looking spiked chain from under his cloak, and swinging it so it wraps around the bodies of both of the brothers, though doesn’t pierce the skin.
“What are you-…”
The older jackal man stops chanting, and nods to the larger one.
“The rest is yours, Captain.”
The large jackal man grins, and his eyes glow red.
“Jah’ea huram ma’os nie’ra!”
The brothers' screams were lost in the howling desert wind…