Heroes of Magic and Might
Chapter 27 – Lizard, men
…
Through the forest a stealthy form moved. The green surrounded him, embraced him, caressing his scales like a tender friend. He was in a hurry. He had to hurry. The others were planning, but it would all come to naught. For what he had learned, he had to tell them. The plans they were planning, they couldn't, they mustn't. He had to hurry.
He arrived at the clearing to find them hoisting their packs, heavy with meat.
"Where are you going?"
They looked at him like he were a fool.
"We go that way," one pointed back the way he had come. "Did we not just send you to scout the path one last time? What have you been doing?"
The one who taunted him was Hazzak, two years his senior though this meant little. It was the first hunt for both of them which was how their tribe measured such things as adult and child.
"We must not," he exclaimed. "We must not fight them. We cannot win."
"Cannot win! What foolishness is this!" cried Hazzak.
"There are twenty of the green skins, and half a dozen wolves," he said.
"What are green skins but ugly pelts," Hazzak scoffed to a general nod of consensus.
"There is more. A frail looking human girl child. She hides under an umbrella."
"And this we should fear!"
"I said she looks, but I do not believe she is. I do not believe she is human," he said. "She smells of blood and death and the wolves obey her as though they understand her words."
"Stupid animals she has trained, what of it?"
"There is more," he carried on. "The small man, he has been teaching them. The smith girl has given them weapons."
"All the more for us after we kill them," Hazzak boasted.
"You will not kill them," he said. "Because the wizard will kill you all."
The group flinched back, hissing the word 'wizard'. Magic was not unknown to them, though there were no practitioners among their tribe. It was for this reason they feared the wizard. Lacking magic of their own, they had no way to counter his magic.
"You're lying," said Hazzak.
"You dare!" he exclaimed.
He didn't really mean it, but he could not back down now after such a long string of boasts. He would not back down, because it was he, Harrack, he was speaking to. He had no fear of Harrack, who had barely been chosen for this hunt, who he scoffed at and scorned every step of the journey. Even if the wizard would appear before them, Hazzak would scoff.
Hamma did not scoff, nor did he boast; he towered, he loomed. The two youngest members of the hunting party bent their necks, staring at the ground, a gesture of humility and submission. He was the leader of the hunt, its Chief. Twice again as big as the largest in the group he was calm at all points till it was time to kill.
He looked down at them now with an icy stare, level, even.
"Harrack."
"Yes, Hamma."
"You have seen this wizard?" the chief asked.
"Yes Hamma."
"What did you make of him? Is he capable? Is he strong? What magics did he use?"
He could feel Hazzak's scorn even as he examined the dirt at his feet. It thrilled him a bit, a feeling he put aside as he gave his report. "It was not like anything I have ever heard of. He spoke to the little man, made mention of a school where he learned. Then he took the sword he had been practicing with and sliced the training dummy into pieces."
"This was magic?" the chief wondered. "It seems more a feat of strength, yes?"
"It would, but he glowed as he did it. Glowing lines traced across his limbs, and his sword stuck fast in the first one. He could not remove it, he struggled. Then he paused, performing some mysticism, then gently pushed it the rest of the way through as though through water. He did this with several others before he stopped."
"I see."
Saying no more, Hamma sat, adopting a thoughtful position where he remained for some time. The others, seeing there would be a wait, dropped their cargo and stretched out to wile away the time till their leader had decided on their next course of action.
"You just had to ruin it," Hazzak cursed at him quietly. "We were finally going to get moving and you do this."
"Hold your tongue Hazzak," he cursed back. "What I have done is save us all."
"Pfft, so highly you think yourself," he replied. "Were it me I would have simply killed the wizard and brought his corpse back as a trophy."
His tail lashed back and forth as the fires of anger stoked higher. These fires were murdered by the icy chill that froze him to the spot when an unknown voice addressed the comment.
"Is that a fact?"
A great scurrying of feet and flashing of teeth followed the peculiar introduction as all and one turned to confront the interloper, all but one. Unperturbed, Hamma raised his head slightly to address the dark-haired human with the golden rings glowing around flashing green eyes.
"You are the wizard?" the man nodded. "How interesting," said Hamma. "I saw you sitting in the tree, watching us just now. Only you weren't a wizard, you were a squirrel."
"It's a little thing I do," said the wizard flippantly.
"Interesting." Hamma often found things interesting.
It unnerved his fellows, how much time he spent thinking about things. Lizardmen were not big thinkers, they were predominately doers. When at all possible, on other people, when not possible, well, they were known for having a cannibalistic streak.
"How did you know to look for us?"
"One of my wolf riders spotted your group spying on us yesterday."
They had known that long? "Why did you not attack us then?" the question was posed before the potential ramifications had time to set in.
He wilted under the wizards look, feeling shamed, though he knew not why. The wizard was not one of theirs. Why should he feel shame? Because he did, he did feel shame and he felt it most strongly, even when Hamma posed the question.
"I too wish to know this. You knew of us, why not attack? Surely you must know this would have been to your advantage."
"I do know that," he said. "I also know jumping into things without thinking has brought me much grief in the past. I am attempting to do better. Failing that, I can also transport myself great distances at a thought so even now I am in little real danger."
Hamma chuckled, a hissing sound through his teeth, "The fool claims he has no fear. The brave man fears, and spits in its face."
The wizard smiled, "I like that. It's like poetry but better, it makes sense."
The hunting chief laughed aloud at this. Some of the others snickered nervously, unsure if they should join. Hazzak appeared to be seething—no, he was hissing, quietly but angrily, like he was about to…
"I wouldn't do it." The wizard slowly turned his gaze to Hazzak, eyes glowing green within the golden rings. "The last one that attacked me I turned to stone. You look like you'd make a bigger pile of rubble than he did."
Harrack trembled, his breath quickened as the scent of violence suddenly radiated from Hazzak. A glance at Hamma revealed the larger lizardman observing the situation with implacable calm.
Hazzak's lip curled back revealing his teeth, a threatening gesture. The wizard raised a single eyebrow, slowly. What happened next Harrack did not understand, but it felt as though he been dipped in ice water. His entire body went rigid and he gripped the ground for support.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see he was not alone, Hazzak was quivering on the ground like a hatchling, eyes dilated in pure terror, so scared he could not move.
As quickly as it came, the force lifted, and life-giving air flooded Harrack's lungs in deep panting breaths. Hazzak remained flattened to the ground, shaking.
"Interesting," Hamma mused.
"You know, two months ago I could barely apply a spell like that to a half-conscious girl to put her back to sleep. I've come a long way."
Turning his back on the two youths, he gave his full attention to the thoughtful leader who seemed to have come to some sort of decision.
"What now wizard. We are at your mercy."
Harrack though this a bit much and the others shuffled about behind Hamma in clear disagreement. Even the wizard disagreed.
"I don't know about that," he said. "Let us call it a draw."
"Very well," Hamma hissing chuckled. "Now what?"
"Come as friend," the wizard said, "our camp is open to you. We have food to spare and are happy to share."
"Such generosity," said Hamma. "And what would we give in return?"
The wizard shrugged, "My 'minions' appear starved for good stories. I'm afraid in the span of a week I've told them all the good ones I know. Perhaps you might have a few to share. One in particular, I am very curious to hear."
"Indeed?" said Hamma, a thoughtful smile stretching his jaw. "How interesting."
…A tower in a wall
"Don't say it."
"I wasn't going to say anything."
"You were thinking it loud enough."
"I just think it's funny."
"Well I don't."
The lizardmen and the goblins sat around the evening fire like old friends, rapt attention paid to the current storyteller, one of the lizardmen, who was actually a woman. Hezza spoke with excellent timing acting out her story, leaping from log to log as she detailed her battle with a deadly swamp hydra.
"She's making it up," said Gabby, joining Harry and Rosebud who sat safely away from the fire. "I've seen swamp hydra. She did not fight one on her own. She has too many body parts left."
"They don't seem to care," said Harry.
It was true. The goblins were too enthralled by the wild tale to care about accuracy. What did truth matter if the story was good, and the storyteller enrapturing?
"We can't keep them you know," the half-goblin went on. "Our food will run out eventually."
"It won't be a problem," said Harry.
"You planning to feed them forever?" said Rosebud with more snark than was strictly necessary.
"They won't be staying I mean," said Harry. "They're going somewhere."
"Where?"
He shook his head, "I'm not sure, but I think we're about to find out."
Hezza' story had concluded to great applause, and now Hamma stood, tearing the last hank of meat from a bone, an act that captured all attention. Even Bill who had been nodding off sensed the shift in the air and woke to full attention as the great lizard man began to speak.
"This story, some of you know, happened just three days ago. I tell it now for our friends, that they might know us, know our value, and what we have paid to arrive here."
The other lizard men shifted uneasily. They clearly knew what he was speaking of. Those that didn't listened like little children out of bed when they shouldn't be, listening to things they were told they shouldn't. You couldn't have moved them with a sledgehammer.
"It starts, with a tower, and a wall."
… Lizard's lament
We were two weeks on the hunt, a long way from home. The land we had hunted was plentiful with game and we were heavy with the spoils and ready to return home.
On returning to the pass through which we had come, we found it blocked by a slide of mud and stone. Thick and heavy it was as a wall to us. Smooth and wet and slick, we could not climb it nor could we find a way around as the ridges rose high and sloped toward us.
We decided to traverse the length of the ridge in an eastern direction, hoping to find another pass where we could cross over and find our way home. Three days travel, we found such a pass, only this one too was blocked, but not by rubble.
A proper wall cut across the break, and at the center of that wall, a tower. Its façade was that of a skull, it's raised gate like pointed teeth in its mouth that was the entrance.
Such a structure, we immediately knew, must be the work of some manlike people as our own do not build with stone, nor do the orcs or kobolds we have seen in our time.
Still, it was a way home, so we approached with caution.
We could feel the eyes on us but could not find the bodies that held them. We knew something was wrong when we drew near the gate, the earth moved, and things started pulling themselves out.
They were skeletons, stripped bare and dirty with soil but clearly human. They stood as living things, chattering their jaws, and flexing their hands. We were stunned, and it cost us, two of our brothers when they made to attacked.
Slow at first, they quickly gained speed and were on us before we could drop our burdens and draw our weapons.
Nerra went first, she who's nose had led us without fail, her neck snapped under the impossible strength of the fleshless hands. And Harro, who knew more songs than all the rest of us put together yet yodeled like a drunken ass when he tried to sing them. Ironic, they went for the throat without ever hearing him.
In the time it took the pair to die we were unburdened and armed and rushed to the fight, only to be assailed from the walls by stones and arrows. Looking up there was no sign of our attackers yet the attack did not cease.
Balls of flame joined arrow and stone and we were forced to retreat, grabbing what we could as we fled the place and escaped to the wood, left to wander, lost, hopeless, so close yet so far from our home.
… You're going to do it again
"So that's it," Harry mused as Hamma drew his tale to a close.
"You know anything about this tower," Rosebud asked Gabby.
She shook her head, "Never been out that far. I'm mostly a homebody."
"Hm," the vampire said, looking to the wizard who had 'that' look on his face. "Harry?"
"Yes."
"What are you thinking?" as if she didn't know.
"Just—thinking."
"Uh huh. You're going to help them, aren't you?"
"Can you give me a good reason why I shouldn't?"
"Several," most of which revolving around them getting dead, "but I have a feeling none of them would be good enough to stop you."
"Probably right."
He spared her a smile, to which she could only shake her head. Of all the people she could get involved with, she got the wizard with a hero streak.