Act 3 - Dark Allegiances (Cont'd)
Their return to the entrance of the tomb was more brisk than Blood Raven's initial passage, with Trump knowingly leading the way in her bouncy, skipping gait. The bloodcurdling wails of the spectres were no longer audible, but the pair still walked nervously, glancing backwards frequently into the gloom.
The Rogue was the first to break the uneasily silence. "Your name, Trump, it is unusual. It is your real name?" she asked tentatively.
"Nopes, it's just a nickname that was given to me. My full name is Nektrump'zshrak."
Despite the song-like tone of Trump's voice, Blood Raven still shuddered at the grating, slippery sound of the name. "When you speak your name, it portrays terrible mental images of death and suffering. Who are your people? Do they all practice the dark arts?" The crimson-clad woman still stared in revulsion at the skeletal garb and pale-skin of her unlikely companion. Trump's silhouette was cast in the vaporous agate-green glow that exuded from the mysterious woman's bare palm and lit the corridor ahead.
"My name is no more disturbing than your's Blood Raven. My people hail from an underground city, secluded in the eastern jungles away from the rest of the world. Yes, we are the practitioners of Nekromantae, the practice of Death, also referred to as the Dark Arts."
"The practice of Death?" the shaken response was the typical reaction that the necromanceress expected from an outsider.
"Yes. When a person dies, the anguish and pain suffered in the final throes of death remain with their body as spiritual energy. We harness this energy of the dead, and utilise its power before it dwindles into the Abyss." The necromanceress shifted her vaporous palm closer to the Rogue. "The Prime essence of all the dead within this tomb is the sole source of this illumination."
Blood Raven peered closer into the wispy glow, and shied back quickly. She thought she had seen tortured, wailing faces, begging for release from their torment. "That is terrible! Why…why did you leave your city?" the Rogue's question was only a startled whisper.
"As Nekromancers, we believe in balance. Thus we do not interfere or mingle with outsiders. But recently, one member of our society has grown to unprecedented power, and is subverting our people towards meddling in the world's affairs. I was so appalled by the change in our people's culture that I decided to leave."
"You ran away?"
Trump stared thoughtfully into the darkness ahead with a wistful smile. "Yes, I did. Then I came here, drawn by the gathered presence of the dead. And you, what are you doing in here?"
"I…I'm not sure. The past few years have merely been a haze to me, and it was like I just woke up from a dream today. This place is used by my Sisterhood as a hallowed burial tomb, and I came to find out what has defiled it so horrifyingly."
"You aren't thinking about going back to that archway are you? Hmmm?" the pale-skinned Trump gave Blood Raven a secretive smile and a wink.
"The mystery of what lies behind the arch will always haunt me." The Rogue was torn between facing the danger and the truth. "I don't suppose you know what lies within it?" she noted the seeming familiarity with which her new companion had led their way back to the tomb entrance.
"Nopes, no idea. We could put on our sweet smiles and nicely ask the guardians to tell us?"
There was no reply to Trump's tease, and the necromanceress glanced over to find the Rogue avidly gazing at the chamber's sandstone floor. "Bloody Raven, what is da matter?
"When I first arrived, there was blood dripping from somewhere above upon the floor here. Now…there is nothing!" the Rogue's face had a puzzled expression as started forward into the circular chamber. Trump quickly stopped her with a hand on the shoulder.
"No don't go in there my comrade, you have many serious wounds. The first chamber of the Mausoleum is a trap, and it is dangerous. First you will need this!" The necromanceress retrieved two items from her backpack and tossed an arm-length cylindrical steel tube towards Blood Raven which was deftly caught. "Now watch." The other item Trump held appeared to be a vial of blood, and she casually tossed it ahead of them to shatter upon the floor. The vial shattered, splattering the floor and the stench of the blood filled the air.
"Look!" Trump pointed overhead.
Blood Raven squinted up into the darkness, but could see nothing. And then, spindly twitching forms hurtled down out of the gloom above upon strands of glistening silk. The Rogue jumped backwards alarmingly as the three bulbous, green bodies each landed upon their eight arachnoid legs. The arachnids were monstrous in size, their abdomens alone larger than a human skull. A multitude of gleaming insectoid eyes glared at the pair of women with insatiable hunger. Various mouth appendages hidden by the dagger-like fangs dipped into each splatter of blood, and within moments the sandstone was spotless once more. The sparse meal was clearly not fulfilling for the monstrosities, and the three spiders reared up upon their hind legs, hissing and forelegs waving menacingly, as they advanced upon the retreating pair of women.
Blood Raven gingerly stepped backwards with Trump at her side. "How many more horrors does this tomb hold…?"
"Hey, I've got an idea! Let's start our own zoo! Catch 'em all! We'll have a lovely collection of exotic creatures." Trump did a quick skip backwards to avoid being clawed by one of the hairy forelegs which were waving in disorientating patterns. The arachnids' dark green bodies were dappled with splotches of black which camouflaged them with the darkness
"How about we concern ourselves with not becoming spider munchies for the moment!" The Rogue stared with concern at the menacing mandibles of the closest spider. "What is the purpose of this tube you have given me? How is it going to help us?" she glanced questioningly at the necromanceress.
"Well, you point it and then press the catch at its middle."
Blood Raven found the metal catch with her thumb, tentatively pointed the cylinder towards the nearest arachnid and press down hard. The end of the steel tube snapped upwards and then shut after an orange gob of sticky and glutinous liquid popped out. "What! That is it! How is this going to kill these monsters!"
"Point it at yourself you ninny wit!" Trump appeared to be in surprisingly good spirits which seemed arguably inappropriate for their present situation.
"Don't call me a ninny! You want me to put this stuff on myself? What in the Sightless Eye is this gunk!"
"We're going to smear it all over ourselves! It's da natural body mucous of a swamp dweller - a frog-like creature which lives in the bogs of our rampant jungles in Kehjistan. Don't worry it's not their slimy mouth mucous, cause that is poisonous, and will give you super itchies."
Blood Raven looked with renewed disgust towards the necromanceress, at the tube of orange gunk she held, and then to the advancing spiders. "First a companion who practises the dark arts…and now this!" she cursed intensely under her breath, before pressing the metal catch again and quickly trailing a generous amount of its contents along her arms and legs. The contact of the orange mucous was disgustingly sticky and clammy; the mouldy odour reminded her of a rotting eggs and fish. The Rogue tossed the tube back to the bone-clad woman and began vigorously smearing the mucous over her skin.
She looked up to see Trump had also finished the task, and was astonished to see that the colour of her companion's pale skin had now transformed into a vivid orange splashed with blotches of black.
"Now we look and smell like da swamp dwellers, which are natural predators of these poison spinners in the jungle." the necromanceress looked smiling with approval at the appearance of the Rogue, who was similarly coloured but contrastingly appeared to be miserably uncomfortable.
The poison spinners had halted in their pursuit of the women, and now held their ground uncertainly. Their clawed forelegs which had been fervently flailing in disorientating patterns now waved unenthusiastically. Gleaming insectoid eyes glared closely at the two orange figures before them, unsure whether to attack or retreat. Their arachnid minds were completely geared by instinct, and the only spiders had not fled only because although these two morsels had suddenly taken upon the appearance and smell of their feared natural predator, something was amiss.
Trump completed the missing element for the spiders by getting down on all fours, and awkwardly hopping forward in her skeletal attire like a mentally challenged toad. "Come on! They believe we are swamp dwellers!" She also appeared to be having exceedingly too much fun before the monstrous, deadly arachnids. "RIBBIT!"
The two spiders before the orange, hopping bone figure scurried back several feet, hissing alarmingly and defensively rearing high upon their rear limbs.
"By my Sisters' honour, I am never going to do something that ridiculous!" Blood Raven stared dismissively at the hopping necromanceress. "Er…Trump! Help!"
The remaining arachnid which confronted Blood Raven had decidedly taken the risk of trying to devour the morsel before it which appeared to be in all manners a swamp dweller, except for the fact that it stood tall on two legs.
"RIBBIT!" Trump made another hop and the retreating spiders turned and climbed up onto the side walls of the corridor. "These two cuties are the most I can handle at the moment. You're going to have to do something yourself dearie!"
The Rogue reluctantly crouched and got down onto her knees. "By the brain of a Wendigo!" she cursed dejectedly. Blood Raven now stared up at the towering hairy body of the poison spinner which bore down upon her. "Ribit…" she muttered half-heartedly.
The arachnid continued approaching, gnashing its hairy mandibles hungrily.
"Trump! It is not working!" Blood Raven cried alarmingly.
"Make a bigger effort than that you ninny!"
The poison spinner was so close that Blood Raven could now even see the dangling mouth appendages under the spider's fangs which were used to drain the bodily liquid out of its helpless prey. "RRIIIIBIITTT!" the Rogue bellowed as she made an enormous vertical leap into the air.
All three spiders wobbled frantically away, each of their eight spindly legs quivering as they scurried back along the corridor. The trailing spider gave an alarmed hiss when Trump gave it another loud croak as it scurried past.
The deathly silence within the tomb settled once more. "For such a big ninny, you make a very good swamp dweller." The necromanceress announced, looking with satisfaction at the Rogue who still lay gasping on her back from the close encounter.
Blood Raven and Trump stared at each other for a moment, before both of them burst into peals of laughter like two gaily girls.
"Come on, I guess it's time for us to go get some fresh air." the necromanceress offered her hand to Blood Raven. She gave a toady orange-faced grin framed by her dark brown tresses.
The Rogue decided that the smile was contagious and gripped Trump's arm as she stood up onto her feet. Despite her companion's almost unnatural cheerfulness which could be considered fanatical, the necromanceress was someone good to have around in the face of danger. Blood Raven began walking awkwardly back to the Mausoleum's entry stairs as she became conscious once more of the cold, sticky and slimy sensation of the mucous coating her body.
For anyone here who is still reading my work, thankyou for staying with it this far. I have noted a very sparse lack of reviews which is a bit disheartening. I will be considering whether to continue posting further chapters of this story.