Boiled Lamb
~|o|~
It had been a few weeks since the beginning of the voyage and Lambert's nerves were wearing thin. There was only so much for him to do on the small vessel. Having gone through his limited reading material in the form of his prayer book over a dozen times by now, he desperately looked for something to occupy his mind. He even took on various chores from Plimbo in order to keep himself busy, but there was only so many times you can swab the deck and retie the same knot over and over before that too got monotonous.
Thus was his final refuge, meditating in the small store room repurposed as his quarters for the trip. It was a small, musty space that was normally filled with goods that Plimbo smuggled overseas, now it was his room complete with a single cot and an oil lantern hanging from the low hanging beam overhead, both swinging in tandem with the waves.
At the moment, Lambert was seated cross legged on a coarse thread mat, trying to focus on keeping his mind clear. As the ship drew closer to this "land of witchcraft" he thought it would be a good idea to try and detect any residual magic as they approached. Understanding through study and experience. If he was to survive in this new world, he needed to learn as much as he could, especially on what kind of energies, malevolent or otherwise might exist.
It was a better use of his time than letting his mind fill with unwanted, anxious stray thoughts.
Of course, the task of clearing one's mind of all distractions is easier said than done, especially on a small vessel such as this. The constant swaying was calming at first, but now it threatened to either lull him to sleep or stoke turbulence in his stomach. He was a landborne mammal afterall and as he had never gone sailing before in his life, the small god was not used to sea sickness.
Not to mention the carpet was kind of itchy and the heat. Gods below, the heat! It appeared that the fox's claims of a boiling sea was not an exaggeration as the temperature of the water steadily rose since a week ago until the seaspray itself could scald and burn his skin. Hiding below deck to avoid it wasn't much better, as the inside of the ship felt like that of a kettle, making the air heavy as the salt from the water clung to everything.
Lambert tried to ignore the heavy beads of sticky sweat slowly running down the sides of his head and staining his wool a slight shade of yellow. Not even the red crown was immune to the heat as it slumped over the side of his brow, sending feverish thoughts into his mind as a sign of its suffering.
Not for the first time he wished he was born a creature with a lighter coat or had one of his follower groomers around to give him a trim. He wouldn't dare ask Plimbo to do it either, he didn't have faith that the constantly bouncing grasshopper wouldn't lop something more than wool off with his twitchy hands.
Suddenly a loud clanging rang out, breaking Lambert out of his self imposed trance and making him jump.
'Speak of the devil…' He thought irritably.
"Ahoy there! Land ho! All hands on deck Lamb!" The sailor's dry voice called from the top deck and both Lambert's and the crown's mood immediately brightened. Scrambling up, he flew past the curtain to his room, hooves thudding as he raced up the stairs. He shielded his face from the morning sun and the waves of heat rolling off the sea as he reached the top deck. His eyes gradually adjusted and he gaped in wonder at what he saw.
Another one of the fox's claims made true, before him was the immense skeleton of a gargantuan bipedal creature. It wasn't the first time he had seen a giant cadaver, the one in the Spore Grotto of Anura came to mind, but it paled in comparison to such a sight. That one's skull had been the size of a large house (in which it served for Sozo before his demise), this one was the size of a mountain. Along the rest of its many bones, various biomes could be seen. Dense trees grew along its arms and within the valley of its rib cage. On the top of the knee he could spy snow covered and windswept peaks.
And dotting its many various ridges and outcroppings… could it be? Yes! Buildings! Houses, towers and castles! From the remains of death, life was growing.
'And it is there I find my destiny!' Lambert smiled, the heat forgotten in his joy and awe. He barely registered Plimbo sauntering up behind him until the tall grasshopper let out a puff of his pipe and sighed.
"Aye, quite a sight ain't she? Such a monstrous creature of leviathan size, the terror of all before her, now ancient and languishing in its own filth and remains…"
Lambert and his crown rolled their eyes. 'Here it comes.'
"...JUST LIKE ME MOTHER-IN-LAW! AH-AH-AH-AH-AH-AH!" Plimbo let out his usual cackle, one of his four arms slapping his knee at his own overused joke.
Lambert cleared his throat. "So this is where you've been getting your more "exotic" merchandise I assume?" He asked, the smuggler taking a moment to catch his breath and flick a tear from one of his bulbous eyes.
"Aye, she is. A fact that I'd greatly appreciate you keeping in exchange for your ticket aboard."
"That was our agreement, yes. What is it like dealing with the locals?"
"Oh I make coin hand over fist! The locals buy up whatever piece of garbage and knickknack I come across back in the Lands of the Old Faith, thinking they are powerful relics or reagents from the other side of the world. Huge suckers for fancy lookin' trash, JUST LIKE ME-!"
"Your mother-in-law, yes, I know. What are they like?
Looking a little put out that he couldn't tell his joke, Plimbo grumbled. "They are kind enough I suppose. Very quick to fear I'd say and more than I few who have tried to pull a fast one on me. But I'd say no more wicked than the types we've got back home. Very big into order though. Apparently they are ruled over by some antlered bloke. Calls himself "Emperor" if you could believe it."
Lambert hummed. A ruler of witches calling himself Emperor. It gave him mixed feelings.
On one hand, he didn't have the greatest track record with self appointed leaders and he felt that the term Emperor had too much in common with Bishop for his liking. It sounded like someone who desired control and he knew just how problematic they could be.
On the other, if there was anyone who could help him find what he needed, then it would be this land's leader. It just begged the question on what this Emperor would want in return.
He'd cross that bridge when it came forward.
"What do these witches look like?"
"Oh they come in ALL shapes and sizes! Some are normal, look like bugs, mammals, reptiles, you get it. Then there are these… things! They walk on two legs, have flat faces with little noses, pointed ears, usually with hairless, squishy skin! They differ a little from each other, but they are the most common. Most bizarre looking creatures I've ever seen!" He shivered, his mandibles clicking nervously. "Something about them rubs me the wrong way."
"I see." Lambert nodded. "Well, looks like I have something to look forward to. Captain, take us in!"
"Aye aye, Lamb!" Plimbo saluted and made for the helm. In the meantime, the small god stood on the prow, gazing intently at the new land and pondering what it has to offer.
~|o|~
It was another hour before they hit land, parking at a small wharf somewhat hidden in the shadow of the giant's pelvis bone. Apparently it was Plimbo's usual docking point as the locals immediately started chatting and exchanging pleasantries with the grasshopper while unloading the goods he planned to sell.
It was enough of a distraction for Lambert to disembark unnoticed. Whether the workers were too busy with hauling cargo or he didn't appear that strange to them he didn't know.
Much to his relief the atmosphere on land was much less humid and hot than the sea and he spent a minute using his powers to flick the sweat out of his wool. He much preferred an actual bath, but with a new land to explore and a holy mission to complete, it could wait.
While he cleansed himself, he took a moment to observe the residents. They matched Plimbo's description, but he couldn't help feeling that he understated just how strange the inhabitants of the "Boiling Isles" were. A few were closer to what he was used to back home, talking animals walking on their hind legs and wearing clothes (thankfully).
Then there were all manner of unique creatures, so varied in shapes, colors and number of appendages it was hard to tell if they were all the same species. Along the pier he spotted a large, broad shouldered sailor being covered in slime, an "I LUV MOM" heart tattoo drawn on each shoulder of his six tentacle arms. Another purple creature skittered past him on four bow legs carrying a crate within a mouth sprouting out the top of its round head.
These were just some of the odd entities around him, which he likened to the many demons he had slain and bound in his years. The only reason he hadn't drawn his sword yet was their civilized behavior, just talking and working hard at their tasks on the docks, coming off as completely benign individuals instead of the wild beasts he was used to. Probably explained why they lacked the dark energy present in the demons of his home land when he scanned them with the crown.
Still no sign of the hairless, pointed ear beings Plimbo was so worried about, though Lambert couldn't imagine they'd be more unsettling than the weirdness surrounding him.
Placated but still cautious, he shouldered his bag and chose to continue on. Following the rough map Plimbo had drawn for him, he left the small wharf and ventured up a dirt path leading into the forest. The map pointed to what the captain said was one of the largest settlements on this island.
It was a quiet walk, at least by the lamb's standards. The forest felt just as alive as Darkwood, the main differences being was that he wasn't constantly being ambushed by suicidal zealots every few steps and the lack of corpses lashed to trees or signets of dark religions plastered anywhere. He spotted more than one ravenous looking beast eyeing him as a potential meal from the shadows which was more familiar. A huge worm-like beast even burst out of the ground while he ate a small lunch, only to wriggle away letting out a high pitched yelping when he shot a flaming bolt between its bug eyes. He didn't see many potential predators after that.
A couple hours of walking later, the trees parted and he arrived at his destination, a city the likes of which Lambert had never seen. Cradled within the center of the giant corpse's ribs was a sprawling metropolis. Houses and other tiled buildings made of stone were crammed inside the defensive walls nearly haphazardly like stacks of different sized books on a shelf. Stained glass windows gleamed in the midday sun, casting multicolored rays across the streets.
On a large sign read the words: "Welcome to Bonesborough!", complete with a population count which seemed to get updated regularly judging by the way the numbers shifted up and down on their own.
"Wow…" Lambert breathed taking in the sight of the impressive architecture. Back home, buildings were rarely made of stone, the only example he could think of being the lighthouse on Pilgrim's Passage. Here, almost every one was made of neatly stacked blocks and taller than two stories. He didn't want to consider his own commune to be primitive by comparison, but his surroundings resembled architectural works of art. His pride as a cult leader demanded he take notes just to outclass these witches when he returned home.
And speaking of witches, they were all over the place. As with the wharf, there were plenty of animals and "not-demons", but then Lambert finally saw them. Standing on average about two or three times his height were creatures that resembled naked, tailless monkeys, aside from how they wore clothes. They had small pointed ears as promised on the sides of their heads under a nest of what appeared to be their only source of hair aside from the occasional beard or mustache.
Lambert kept a wide berth from them. He didn't know why, but they felt the most alien by far.
Regardless, all of the creatures that apparently fell under the term witch were going about their daily business. Children (at least he assumed they were judging by their diminutive size) laughed and played on playgrounds while their parents watched. Wagons pulled by both majestic and grotesque beasts of burden carried goods to be sold.
And everywhere, he could see and feel magic! Across the street an elderly witch drew a glowing circle in the air with her finger, a shimmer settling over a nearby broom. The next second it had picked itself up and started sweeping dust off her doorstep. Another witch nearby held squirming cubes of meat on a skewer, with his free hand he called forth a torrent of fire from another circle, cooking his meal to a crisp. Satisfied, he licked his lips and promptly bit into it. Even the children were capable as such, a pair on the playground raising their arms to summon small golems out of the sandbox and start pummeling each other.
Lambert smiled. "Promising start. If this is what the typical citizen is capable of, then surely resurrection is possible! I just need to find the most powerful witches here and work from there. But how to find one?" He muttered, rubbing his chin for a moment before snapping his fingers. "Of course! I can just attract attention and introduce myself to the guards! They'll definitely take someone as important as the God of Death to their masters! Just need to find the right spot!" He said to himself, setting off down the street, looking for a townsquare or something to that nature.
Everywhere small stores and stands peddled their were clothes, the fashion trend being robes and tunics apparently, coming with additional features like changing the color of the fabric as well flight by flapping like a bird. There were wagons and stands laden with food and produce ranging from colorful yet innocuous fruit to balls covered in wiggling legs which seemed to be the popular pick. Vendors waved and advertised their peculiar wares.
"Get ya pickled pixies here! Stock up for Mould Season!"
"Fresh bombaberries! Exploding with flavor!"
"Lettuce! Lettuce here! It's green, it's veiny, it's weird and part of a nutritious breakfast!"
Okay, that one not so much.
Making a mental note to grab a snack later, Lambert made his way to the centre of the market square where he spotted a fountain on a raised platform. The perfect stage.
He set his pack on the cobbled stone. Putting his "Speech Face" on, he fixed his wool and made certain his crown was square on his head.
With a flourish of his cape, he fired a flaming bolt into the sky overhead where it burst in a whistling, sparkling explosion. Heads and eyestalks turned his way, patrons and vendors stopping what they were doing to see what was happening.
"Greetings inhabitants of the Boiling Isles! Be not afraid, for I bring glad tidings this day! I am a mighty, yet benevolent ruler from across the scalding sea, from the Lands of the Old Faith! A realm of which I am its one true god!" He proclaimed, getting into the familiar rhythm of playing the crowd with wide sweeping gestures. "I am He Who Liberates, breaking the shackles of the lowly prey who cower in the shadows of carnivores! I am he, who conquered the demons of chaos, famine, plague and war! I, am the chosen Lamb and I am on a great quest! Take me to your leaders so that I may share the bounty of my grace with you all!" He finished with a spin and a grand smile.
He waited with his eyes closed, expecting jubilant applause and to be swept off his feet to be taken to their leader's stronghold.
Only to frown and look to see the crowd around him gushing and cooing at him.
"Aww… he learned fire magic and thinks he's a god. So adorable!"
"I remember when my daughter went through her power trip phase. Ah, good times."
"He's even got a blanket as a cape! The mind of a child is so wonderful!"
Lambert bristled. They weren't taking him seriously at all. They all thought he was a child at play!
"How dare you?! I am not adorable and this is not a blanket, but my holy fleece! I am a great and terrible god of death and destruction and you will respect me!" He demanded, stamping his hooves and pouting, only serving to inflame the crowd's amusement much to his dismay.
"Yes, you're a horrific being of mayhem and terror, aren't you?!" A female witch murmured in a childish voice as she reached down and pinched his cheek. "Yes you are! Yes you are!"
"Unhand me fool! Don't you mock me!" Lambert hissed, eyes flashing red as he tried his best not to detonate the townsquare in a blast of eldritch fire. He couldn't afford to make himself an enemy of the people when he had just arrived. But with each tweak of his cheek he was getting closer to not caring anymore.
"Hey, what's going on over here?! Break it up!"
Lambert breathed a sigh of relief as a voice caused the crowd to panic and quickly disperse. Stepping forward was an individual dressed in a dark gray jerkin, black pants and leather boots. They wore a pure white cowl over their head held in place with a gold triangle clasp and a gray mask in the shape of a bird's curved beak obscuring their face.
Lambert's hopes soared. This person was obviously dressed in a uniform and the authority they commanded over the crowd, they were most likely some kind of law enforcement. Perfect!
Dusting himself off, he hoped he looked somewhat presentable after being accosted. He straightened his back and raised his head to meet the eyes of the guard, or at least the black holes of their mask.
"About time! Greetings sir! I am a visiting dignitary from a far away land. Would you be so kind as to take me to your leader so that I may acquire their aid? I will ensure that you will be well rewarded!" He promised, giving them a wink.
The person regarded him for a second, then to Lambert's horror-
"Aw… that's cute, just a kid and he already wants to meet the Emperor." He laughed.
'CURSE IT TO THE NINTH CIRCLE OF HELL!' Lambert screamed internally.
"Sorry kid, you're a little too young right now." The guard continued, squatting down to the infuriated god's eye level. "Remember to study hard, eat your vegetables and obey the law and one day even you could join the Emperor's Coven." He said, pulling something from his cloak as clipping it to the collar of Lambert's fleece. He pulled back, revealing a small pin with the words "Junior Scout!" on it.
"Remember to follow your dreams, so long as they fit within the Emperor's vision! Now run along, don't want your parents to worry!" The guard gave him a thumbs up and strolled away.
Lambert's eye twitched. He plucked the pin off his vestment and crushed it to pieces in his glowing fist.
Not since he had been a newborn had he been treated this way. What was with this place? Back home no one found him cute. He was meant to be feared and respected! Was it his height? Did he fit their idea of a child?!
Lambert breathed deeply, trying to defuse the raw fury cascading from his crown.
"Guess that's what I get for thinking this was going to be easy. No matter." He muttered, taking another deep breath and forcing himself to compose. "Perhaps the third time's the charm?" He said, slinging his pack back over his shoulder. He turned away to find a different location to try again, not noticing the two pairs of eyes following him.