Chronicles of Espiria Season 2
Episode 19 – A Strange Partnership
Written by Stormrider
Early reports of the destruction of what had been nicknamed "Checkpoint Durri", carried by scattered survivors of the attack, were, at first, largely dismissed. Some claimed that it was impossible to overcome the Dragonslayer Vurk, either by wit or strength. Others claimed it was irrelevant because, well, they're Durri; of course the rodents would be defeated. Skriath was not so prepared to dismiss it, especially with the descriptions of the Hypogean leader. This was why he and Numisu secretly reached out to a supposed expert in the Lightbearer regions. They sat at a small table in a borrowed tent near the border with the empire, waiting for the human to arrive.
"Are you sure this is a wise idea, Grand Chieftain?" Numisu asked.
"Unconventional times call for unconventional measures, my friend." Skriath answered as he sipped at his tea. "Besides, we called a temporary truce with the humans when the Hypogeans returned. This will be a fine test of our shaky friendship."
Not long after, a woman in her late forties entered the tent, clad in light blue and wearing her hat at a jaunty angle over her greying hair tied in a ponytail. She walked briskly to the table, but did not sit down, preferring to stand and tap her foot impatiently. Moments later, she was joined by a younger man with dusty brown hair and a large backpack.
"Gretel Hawke, I presume." Skriath said as he set his tea down and bade her sit with a wave of his hand. "I hope this tent provides some comfort to your human weaknesses."
Gretel nodded dismissively. Her assistant looked offended.
"I appreciate the gesture, but we have bigger things to talk about." Gretel answered.
"Quite right, to business." Skriath said. "We've recently encountered a new breed of Hypogean. They're cleverer than any we've seen before, able to reason, strategize, and outwit some of our most clever defenders. The Paragon may not be able to win against this foe by his strength alone. I have heard that you and your friend are experts in these matters; can you give us insight into how to deal with this new threat?"
"We might." Gretel said as she glanced at her assistant. "Do you have a description of the creatures?"
"We have a description of their leader." Skriath said. "A strange one, to say the least. Hooded to hide his face, horns protruding from the hood, four arms, no legs, seems to hover wherever he goes, armed with an odd staff with a sharp edge. According to survivors, the air seemed to grow cold wherever he went, and the very life was drained from them. Does this sound familiar?"
Gretel and her assistant shared a glance. It was familiar all right.
"I think I know what it is, but I'll need to do some research to figure out how to kill it." Gretel said after some thought. Turning back to her assistant, she said, "Peter, you ready?"
"Actually, we may have something here." Peter said as he dropped his backpack on the ground. "I anticipated that we might need some information about the Hypogeans, so I brought as much of your library as I could fit."
He started laying out books and scrolls from his backpack, many containing handwritten notes by Gretel stuffed between the pages, all describing Hypogeans and the first war against them that left the heavens in shambles. The presence of some of the volumes left a frown on Gretel's face.
"Peter Thorne, those are from my restricted section." Gretel whispered in his ear.
"These are creatures of immeasurable power. We need all the power we can get to counter them."
"Power always has a cost, and that cost is usually too high. I'd hoped you'd learned that by now."
The argument paused as a slip of paper fell from the middle of one of the books. Peter's eyes grew wide as he saw a crude doodle in the corner of the paper matching Skriath's description. Gretel saw it as well, and picked it up to read for everyone.
"I am recording this tragedy as a warning. Do not make the same mistakes as anyone involved. This is a textbook case of what happens when you neglect your students.
"Percival Arkwright was a good friend of mine, and I think on reflection that I was his only friend. He endured a lot more torment from his peers and teachers than I realized until his undoing. He was a student at the Arcane Academy, like myself. He never made it obvious that he couldn't pay the tuition, but everyone learned this at some point; I think I was the only one who learned firsthand. This elitism is a large issue at the Academy; a gift in the arcane should not be ignored just because the student needs financial aid. But I digress.
"Percival came across a strange tome in the library, when or how exactly I don't know. I only looked in it once, and the glyphs it contained were almost hypnotic; I had to force my eyes away from the page. I doubt many mages could've resisted the pull once they got deep enough. Afterward, Percival confided in me a number of times that he had been hearing a voice whispering to him. The last time he really seemed like himself, he reached out to me for help. 'Help me, I can't stop him.' I didn't know how to help. It haunts me to this day.
"It all came to its boiling point a few weeks later, in a confrontation with Goddard Fitzpatrick. He was a brawny, overconfident student who delighted in tormenting Percival. As terrible as he was, I agree he did not deserve what happened to him next. After severely beating Percival, Goddard was reduced to a smouldering husk on the floor by a curse like nothing the Academy had seen before or since.
"Shortly thereafter, the teachers found him in the library, morphed and twisted beyond recognition. He escaped their spells and fled from the Academy. He was no longer my friend; he had been consumed by the creature trapped in that tome.
"I repeat, this is a warning. Learn from how we all failed my friend. How I failed my friend."
Gretel slowly set the paper on the table. Skriath and Numisu glanced at each other as they considered what this meant. Peter was not as hard struck.
"This is why it seemed so familiar!" Peter said. "This story was told often at the Academy as a sort of cautionary tale."
"About the dangers of seeking power for it's own sake?" Gretel asked rhetorically.
"Actually, about pursuing Hypogean magic, but..."
"My friends, we now know where this creature came from," Skriath interrupted, "but what is it called? And more importantly, how do we kill it?"
Peter took the paper and looked it over again. "Amazon...Azamon...Amzon..."
"Azmonath." Gretel corrected as she dug through the backpack some more.
"Gah!" Peter shouted in frustration. "Why can't they have easier names?!"
Gretel chuckled at her assistant's struggles. "As for how to kill it, I seem to remember that it originally died in a big battle during the first war. We just need to find an account of that battle to see how they did it. Peter and I will find a place to hole up and pour over what we have here. You probably have a nice library too; maybe you can find something now you know what you're looking for."
"Of course. Thank you, Gretel Hawke and Peter Thorne. We will inform you if we discover anything."
Gretel and Peter gathered their knowledge back into the backpack and left the Grand Chieftain and the Shaman alone.