"These tools should be enough…" Krehoc mused to himself as the Skink Chief returned to Tlo'eko's quarters, now armed and ready to go. Considering the nature of this expedition, he opted to bring what he could carry, and what was versatile. A turtle-shell shield rested on his back with a standard macuahuitl blade underneath it. A long blowpipe rested on his back as well, with a bag of venom tipped darts to go with it, and a bone carving knife for various reasons strapped to his thigh. Lastly, and just because he could fit it on his back, the Skink Chief brought a quiver of javelins with him, though he could only bring a few.
A shame, but he'd make do with what he had.
Setting foot in the Skink Priest's quarters once more, Krehoc saw Tlo'eko by the balcony once more, staring out into the horizon. The sun had yet to rise, further reminding Krehoc that they were up extremely early.
"Have you finished preparing?" The Skink Priest asked.
"I have: the Skink in charge of the armory was confused when I asked for what I did, but he relented after a while.
Tlo'eko turned and his eyes widened. "I can see why; you take this versatility thing seriously."
"Any good Skink Chief would. A good predator is ready to hunt anywhere. I am a great predator."
The Skink Priest chuckled. "You're certainly something. So, let us be off. Your means to the Southlands await." The Skink Priest and Chief turned to walk, Krehoc following closely with the ornate Skink.
It took little time to reach the large balcony where a Skink awaited. Said Skink was currently mounted atop his Terradon mount. The beast was currently munching on something, the sight filling Krehoc with unease as Tlo'eko approached the Terradon Rider, speaking to him quickly before the Skink Priest turned towards Krehoc. "It's time."
"Should I bring anything to the Mage-Priests there?" The Skink Chief asked as he, cautiously, boarded the Terradon, settling himself behind the rider of the beast who tugged on the reins to direct it.
"Only my word. It shouldn't take long to reach the Southlands; once there, begin the hunt for this Medella, and return however you can." Krehoc sighed at that. Clearly, Tlo'eko didn't think his plan through entirely. The Skink Priest gripped the saddle as the Terradon took off, the rider directing the beast over the vast, familiar jungles Krehoc always found himself drawn to.
Hopefully the jungles in the Southlands were as favorable. A Skink could hope.
"This is as far as I can take you," Krehoc dropped to the ground, claws digging into the soil as he turned to look up at the Skink mounted atop his Terradon. "Tread carefully, Skink Chief; these jungles are not as safe as Lustria's."
"I'm well aware. I will be fine."
The other Skink nodded. "Do you know the way?"
"No, but I have a plan." The rider nodded and, swiftly, took off, leaving Krehoc to ready his sword and shield and trek into the jungle. The Skink Chief kept himself low to the ground, his movements slow and methodical, as he did what he could to avoid from drawing attention to himself. From the records kept on the Southlands, while it lacked Lustrian predators, it still had creatures and beasts roaming…not to mention warmbloods. And not just Skaven, for once. He'd slain many in his service to Tlo'eko and the Temple-City, yes, but only them. The Southlands, however, had others: humans, elves, orcs; all were possible foes and, therefore, prey to be hunted.
Krehoc made a mental note to restrain himself, though, if there were a sizable group of warmbloods…otherwise…well he doubted Tlo'eko would mind if he came back with some trophies.
And, if he did…oh well.
The Skink Chief traveled for a while, gradually switching from prowling through the foliage to leaping through trees. Early morning had, gradually, transitioned into early afternoon, and he still had no luck in finding Zlatlan.
…it was quite ironic; for once, he didn't think things through. How amusing.
Rustling down below caught the Skink Chief's focus. He pressed himself against the branch he was atop and peered down. Below, was…a Saurus! No…not just one. There were a few, joined by some Skinks! Krehoc leapt down swiftly, hearing them all turn towards him as the Skink Chief rose.
"Ease yourselves," He spoke quickly. "I come bringing a message from Tlo'eko; a Skink Priest in Lustria."
"What message does he bring?" One of the Skinks chirped, crest flaring.
"It must go to your Mage-Priest. You all hail from Zlatlan, correct?" The Skinks nodded, as the Saurus remained…idle. Krehoc recalled most Saurus rarely concerned themselves with diplomatic things, and only spoke when needing to.
"I can escort you, Skink Chief," One of the Skinks stepped away from the group and started walking, the rest of them continuing on their path away from them. "We must be swift, though; these jungles are not safe for Lizardmen."
"Agreed." Krehoc followed the Skink, keeping his blade at the ready as he darted his head about. His nostrils flared when he picked up a sharp, musky scent, and the Skink Chief shot his hand out to clamp it down on the Skink's shoulder and yank him into a bush, the older Lizardman doing the same as something walked past. Krehoc kept his eye close to the edge of the bush to see humanoids walk past…no doubt humans. Once they were past, the Skink Chief silently crept from the bush, drawing his knife. One of the humans lagged behind; said human was dispatched when Krehoc's hand clamped down on his maw and plunged the knife into his neck, yanking him into the bush as he silently eliminated his foe. He could hear the others cease in their trek…it was time to hunt.
Gently releasing the corpse, Krehoc started to creep again, drawing one of his javelins and, after priming himself, he threw it and darted into another bush, the Skink hearing a sharp prich sound to tell him it found its mark.
By now, the humans were shouting and yelling in their tongue. He understood it, somewhat, but didn't care enough to translate it right this second. Another javelin was pulled out and the action repeated, Krehoc exhausting his javelins and emerging from the bush to see the five humans on the ground, still and unmoving.
"…perhaps I should have saved those for later…" Krehoc muttered. A click noise left his throat that made the other Skink rise from the brush, the younger Lizardman wincing at the sight of the corpses. "How often do these warmbloods come through here?"
"Enough for us to have to actively hunt them," The Skink nodded. "Lord Fro-Gar fears they'll inevitably weaken the wards that keep Zlatlan concealed, and thus he wants them actively removed from the area."
"It sounds as if your Mage-Priest is as paranoid as the one who sent me. But, regardless, we should go…after I take a trophy or two from these." The carving knife was in his hand in a flash. He wanted to see if he could use their fingers for a necklace.
…then again…that sounded gaudy. Maybe their skulls would do alone.
The air was growing foggier. Krehoc pressed forward with his guide, though the Skink soon found it hard to see more than a few feet ahead. "How much longer until we reach it?" He asked.
The Skink shook his head. "We've already arrived, Skink Chief. Mind your step." Krehoc came to a sharp halt just in time to see some of the fog disperse, revealing he was standing at the edge of a large cliffside.
And, beyond it, was Zlatlan. It was settled in the middle of a large valley, with dense jungles all around. And, of course, fog surrounded it, reminding Krehoc once more why it was called the hidden city.
It was…funny. He was captivated by Zlatlan, and it wasn't part of Lustria; as far as Tlo'eko told him it was a temple-city that, somehow, could survive away from their home…away from the Geomantic Web. It almost made him question how a temple-city of its size survived without access to typical Lustrian prey for food, but…questions for later.
"I can make my way from here," Krehoc rolled his shoulders and turned to drop down from the ledge, claws digging into the rock as he began to climb downwards. "Thanks for the aid."
"Welcome, but…you plan to see the Mage-Priest with those around your neck?" Krehoc looked down at the necklace made from severed fingers and some leather bindings.
"…I had to take something as a trophy. And, apparently, I forgot human heads are quite heavy…far heavier than rat-spawn heads." The other Skink's crest lowered as he turned to leave. Krehoc made sure he had a firm grip before continuing his descent. It'd take some time to reach Zlatlan from here but, at the very least, his task was halfway done.
And then he'd hunt more of those humans. Or whatever else was foolish enough to get in his sights.
(So…can't really update this consistently.
It's not because I don't want to, but more along the lines that I can't. Unlike the other projects I'm working on, which for the most part are already fully plotted out, this story I haven't really taken time to sit down and plot out, namely because, as one reviewer pointed out, I'm trying to keep this as close to canon as I can, while taking ample creative liberties to even allow such a tale to begin with, considering how alien Lizardmen are.
More or less, I'll be updating this one whenever I can, for the most part; don't expect a consistent upload pattern here. I can say the next few chapters of this project will be considerably better; this was just me trying to get something out there and also explain why I didn't upload Monday…or…Tuesday, for that matter.
Sorry about that.)