Draconic Shennanigans - Episode 19

New allies, old enemies but someone else finally knows Jeremiah's god.

 Chapter Nineteen: Dark Enticement

 Ulrich woke up and rolled over. He rolled back with a yelp of pain as his left arm contacted the floor and pain flared in his upper arm, as hard and as sharp as if someone had just pressed a red hot poker into his muscle.

"What the..." his hand felt a very odd shaped lump in his arm under the bandaged wrapped tight around it.

"Well you're awake," Jeremiah observed from where he was heating up the ever pouring kettle over the flame of a small oil stove, "We did rather worry that it might be beyond you after yesterday."

"Why old boy, you actually sound as if you were worried there for a moment," Ulrich tried to lever himself into a sitting position and struggled with it. Thorian reached out and helped him but his hands were not made to be gentle.

"Ah! Ah, ah," Ulrich gasped for a moment, "Thank you Thorian, thank you very much. I reckon you just made us level for my not realizing just how much of a headache that drink I gave you after Calypso died was going to give you. Yeash! This hurts!" He leaned back against the tunnel wall, put a hand to the bandage and then wished he hadn't.

"Ah! Just what happened?"

"Thorian was playing with a huge, hairy, eight legged friend," Kaelin sat up in her blankets, "When you decided that you'd break up the party. Only problem for you was that you didn't realize that said friend had brought a brother to the party and said brother bit you and bit you good. Pretty sure that we could see bone in the bottom of the hole by the time we finished clearing it out. And oh, you owe Thorian for saving your life. Him and your big bug of a mount. Have to say I'm impressed, the darn thing hasn't tried to eat anyone while you were asleep."

"I think that maybe because I haven't given it a chance to eat anyone," Jeremiah smiled at her as he poured boiling water into the teapot and clicked the lid into place before pouring out a bowl of boiling water.

Kaelin chewed it over for a moment, quite literally.

"Yeah, O.K. he may have a point there," she admitted, glancing at the heap while Ulrich's mount lay surrounded by the blue eyed bodies of its former fellows. It was quivering slightly.

"Well guess I owe all of you a huge thank you," Ulrich smiled wanly and then frowned as Jeremiah plunged his hands in the bowl of hot water, "Just what are you doing old boy?"

"Getting ready to give that arm of yours another look," Jeremiah grimaced, picking through the rolls of bandages. He selected one and unwound a length, which he promptly cut off.

"That's a little short you know," Ulrich pointed out.

"It's not for wrapping round your arm," Jeremiah informed him as he soaked the still rolled up part of the bandage in 'For Healing' potion, "It's to pack the wound."

"Oh I'm sure that my arm is utterly fine with what you have done already," Ulrich grinned, sweating slightly, "You really don't need to be bothering yourself over such a little thing."

"Thorian, pin him down," Jeremiah stated without looking round, "Kaelin, hold his arm still for me."

Ulrich yelped as he found himself back on the floor with Thorian's not inconsiderable weight on top of him, while Kaelin got hold of his arm and twisted it out to where Jeremiah could work on it.

"Seriously people, you do not need to go to this length over a little spider bite," Ulrich complained from the bottom of the heap, then he realized something as Jeremiah started unwinding the bandage round his arm, "Just where has the sleeve of my jacket gone!"

"Battle casualty," Kaelin informed him, looking away from where Jeremiah has finished uncovering the wound, "You wouldn't have wanted to keep it any way, that spider had dribbled all over it. Burnt holes clean through it."

"If it had done that then how come I still have an arm on my left side?" Ulrich demanded.

"Thunder Mage do good magic on you," the goblin leader nodded as he picked up the thieves lantern and shone it on the injury for Jeremiah, "Mighty, mighty magic, showed old many eye's poison the back door."

"It doesn't feel much like magic right now," Ulrich turned grey as Jeremiah's fingers wiggled and worked the roll of bandage out of the wound.

"It's magic alright," the goblin nodded, "Otherwise you be deaded. You be deaded and food for old many eyes, or maybe food for us when you gone." He grinned, showing lots of yellow teeth.

"There's no need for that, Stink of the Midden," Kaelin admonished quietly, trying not to looked to closely as she dripped a potion marked 'Wound cleaner' into the hole in Ulrich's arm. Thankfully this one didn't smoke on contact and Ulrich actually relaxed so it might have been numbing his flesh. When she did dare to look there actually seemed to be a covering of muscle over the bone so it wasn't as bad as she remembered.

 "Why not?" Stink of the Midden grinned some more, even while he held the lantern steady, "Doesn't goblin child wind up in cook pot when hue-mans find nothing else to eat? Hue-mans always saying nasty goblin mens stealing bab-be to eat, yes? To cook up on fire and munch crunch, yes? Well why we do that, huh? Why we do stupid thing like that? We know that hue-mans always want excusable thing so they can come clumpy marching down to the burrows and dig us out and jump up and down on us. Sides, we don't have cook fire, all smoky in den, all cough and choke, no want food then. So we don't want hue-man child, no use, no need, see? But hue-mans, oh yes hue-mans, they have cook pot, they have fire, they have hungry-hungry tums always wanting more and goblin baby easy-peasy to catch, not as hard as rabbit, easy-peasy. Easy-peasy to fill cook pot with goblin child, goblin less than rabbit, goblin just vermin, no one care if man take goblin from another man's land, doing other man favor taking goblin. Easy-peasy!"

"Speaking for myself," Ulrich grunted as Jeremiah pushed the new, slightly smaller bandage into the hole in his arm, "I have never eaten anything that spoke to me first and told me its name."

"Maybe you has and maybe yous hasn't," Stink of the Midden conceded without venom, "How is I's to know, huh? How is I's to know you haven't munched goblin child? Sides, down here, not much to eats down here so we eats what we can find. But say this thoughs, we not eat friend while friend is still talking to us. After you is deaded though." Goblins are very expressive when they shrug, their shoulders apparently having more joints than usual to complete the gesture. "Then you not care much no more any way so no hard feelings, yes?" Stink of the Midden shrugged again and grinned as Jeremiah wound  a new bandage over the top of the packed wound.

"Well I would say to rest that arm," Jeremiah observed as he tied the bandage off, "But seeing as we are still down here then there isn't much chance of that. Just try to lead more with your right hand for a while, okay?"

"I'll try old boy but no promises," Ulrich grinned and then whinced as Thorian helped him sit up again, "I say old friend, could you try and be a little more gentle with the hauling around? My arm could do without the knocking around right now."

"Oh sorry," Thorian backed away and started digging through his pack, "Anyone else want breakfast?"

"Now that is a remarkably good idea," Jeremiah smiled and poured out the tea he'd made with the ever pouring kettle.

"You've been borrowing my stuff again without permission," Ulrich glared.

"I prefer to consider it our stuff for the duration of our travels together," Jeremiah oiled as he held out a cup to Ulrich, "But if you'd prefer to not profit from someone borrowing without permission, I suppose I'll just pour this away." He tilted the cup slowly over.

"Oh alright," Ulrich snatched before the tea could be split all over the floor, "You can blasted well borrow my kettle but, in the interest of this being equal, then I should be allowed to borrow your books whenever I like." He grinned.

Jeremiah clapped a hand down over his pocket where his books where kept but then he smiled oily, "Why Ulrich, I didn't realize that your scholarly inclinations where inclined towards theology. Of course you can have a look at my books. Here, why don't you start with this one?" Jeremiah's hand dug in his pocket and pulled out the tome he had 'collected' from the Abbey.

Kaelin frowned as she looked at it. The cover looked different to how it had looked that night in the Abbey library and she was sure that it wasn't just the fact that she was seeing it in a better light than she had then. The leather looked more brightly green, less scuffed and worn, almost new and... Kaelin leaned forward without realizing that she had done so. There was definite traces of gold work on the cover now. That had definitely not been there the night they had recovered it from the Abbey. Kaelin wracked her brain for a time when Jeremiah would have had the opportunity to practice book repair on their travels and over than when they were at the Wizards Tower nothing sprung to mind. She frowned. She didn't think he'd had enough time for such a complicated hobby while they were staying there, what with drake attacks and exploring the Tower for supplies. She frowned some more, she couldn't think of any amount of time Jeremiah could have had to work on repairing the book. Even the afternoon they were supposed to be hunting for that picture of the golden harp Jeremiah had said that he' continued looking for it even after she'd given up on the phony search. There was something strange about the whole thing.

Ulrich narrowed one eye at Jeremiah as he took the book but then he rested it on his crossed legs and opened the cover. His frown deepened as he read while he sipped his tea. It wasn't that the book started out that aggressively, more a basic outline of the order of the universe and the hierarchy of beings, thought there were some vague promises of deep knowledge and esoteric power. It was just a phrase here and there that made Ulrich suspect that whoever had authored the book had very definite feelings about how those like Thorian and the goblins should exist... or rather, he suspected, not exist. There was a definite under current in the wording that spoke to Ulrich of the sort of people who believed that they were the top of the heap and therefore had a divinely given right to decide who had the right to live and who the world would be better off without. A very us and them, divisive outlook on the world, a divine providence granted to those that were worthy to stamp all over those that were not worthy. But it wasn't really said outright, it was more subversive, more hinted at so that if you tried to bring up single passages or sentences in an argument as evidence for your objections to what was being taught then you would sound overly sensitive, maybe even hysterical.

Ulrich frowned some more. It wasn't just what he was reading that was giving him the creeps about the book. There was a feeling to the process of reading this book that wasn't there with other manuscripts. A... pressure. As if the words on the pages were living things that were trying to wriggle their way into his mind via his eyes and even more than that. As Thorian said something about bacon being ready, Ulrich realized that he had the horrible sensation of something watching him... from behind his own eyeballs.

He snapped the book shut and handed it back to its owner, not entirely sure that he had successfully suppressed the shudder that ran up his spine.

"Thanks old boy," he managed a smile, "That really was illuminating."

"Any time, Ulrich, any time," Jeremiah's smile was greasy, "After all, friends really should help each other to see the light."

"Perhaps you should try and start the fire sometime then," Thorian sniffed as he handed out bacon rolls.

Jeremiah's expression became pained as he struggled not to ask the question that Thorian's statement invited. It was a struggle that he lost.

"And what would starting the fire have to do with enabling our friend Ulrich to see the light?" he asked at last. Thorian looked at him as if he couldn't believe just how thick Jeremiah was acting and then he suspected that Jeremiah was taking the micky out of him.

"Well duh. Fire is light, light is fire," he explained hands held out wide, lip lifted in a sneer of disbelief, "If you want to help Ulrich see the light, you should light the fire."

Ulrich and Kaelin looked at each other across the little flame of the stove, faces distorted with the effort not to laugh. Then their eyes met.

Jeremiah sat, eyes turned up to the ceiling in an expression of long suffering endurance, as Ulrich and Kaelin dissolved into laughter, the goblins following their example, possible without understanding what was going on, or possible understanding that Jeremiah had often lorded it over Thorian because he was smarter and that Thorian had just managed to make Jeremiah look like a fool. Even Ulrich's centipede lifted its head from its coils and waved its antennae in curiosity. For some reason that made Kaelin laugh even harder.

"Thank you for that," Ulrich smiled and lifted his cup to Thorian. "I needed that!" He did not say that it had just about washed away the feeling that something was watching him from inside his own skull.

"Happy to help," Thorian grinned and use a piece of bread to mop out the bacon pan. They were just beginning to pack up and reload their packs when there was a happy jabbering from down the tunnel they had escape from the day before and a couple of Stink of the Midden's goblins clattered into their camp, holding high little jars containing a blue glow.

"Are they the empty potion vials?" Jeremiah asked after a long look.

"Yes, yes," Stink of the Midden grinned, "Left them lying around, no more wanted them so we use them. Send some of the lads back to last cave. Light bugs having fun in there, all munchity-crunchity. Easy enough to pop some in the bottles. Now we don't use lights that tell dark pointy ears that we are here." His gesture at Jeremiah's puppeted Ash Elves left no one in any doubt as to what Stink of the Midden thought of them. "Going close to their places next I'll wager, no fun to be had there, not if they catch us. Plenty of fun for them, oh yes, plenty of fun for them, not much fun for us, oh no."

"Well then, let's see," Ulrich smiled and leaning forward, blew out the stove. Kaelin blinked in the sudden darkness striving to get her eyes used to lack of light. After a few moments the faces of her companions swum out of the gloom, painted strange hues in the blue light. Stink of the Midden chattered something that may have been a goblin laugh, he and his fellows nearly invisible in the blue glow.

"Now we see you, you no see us," he chuckled, "How does it feel to be the ones scared of the big clompy boot?"

"Singularly uncomfortable," Jeremiah said in the darkness, his eyes fixed on the goblin. The little pipsqueak was becoming far too familiar with them all. The runt had obviously forgotten who was the master here and who would have been lying in a road side ditch if it wasn't for him, Jeremiah. He supposed that it was the problem with encouraging their fixation with Kaelin. Well, next time he'd make sure that they knew who they really should sing their praise to because there would be a next time, that he was sure of, he just need to dispose of the garbage first.

"But at the same time we are less likely to let other people know that we are coming this way," Ulrich observed, "So I'd say that our little friend here showed a brilliant use of his brain." Stink of the Midden preened. Unseen in the gloom, Jeremiah glowered.

Carefully, Ulrich poured the last of the oil out of the stove back into the flask and capped it shut before striding across to his many legged mount and swinging on to its back. It was an odd motion as the centipedes back was only slightly higher than a regular chair so he had to fold his legs up high. The centipede rippled and turned its head as if considering whether the smell of blood on its rider meant that it could have another go at bucking him off but a dig of Ulrich's thumb in its injured back plate convinced it that such a move was not worth the effort it took. Rippling its multitude of legs it swung round to face the tunnel that lead further into this darksome world below ground. Thorian fell in at his right shoulder without a word while the goblins slid up on silent feet on his left. It appeared that the loss of one of their comrades in the fight against the centipedes had convinced them as to the danger of this place and they had lost their sense of invulnerability brought on by having an Ash Elf have to get down and kiss one of their boots. Kaelin managed to follow right on behind them, even though her spine clenched and her hair tried to stand on end as she heard Jeremiah's collection of puppets start following along behind her. She for one would be quite glad if he lost the entire lot and was never able to get any of them back. About the only thing worse than them was the shadow things that he sometimes summoned up. Kaelin shuddered as the memory of their hideous creaking moaning sounded again in her ears. They were something worse than his puppets, at least if he decided to set his puppets on them she'd have a fighting chance of taking them out where as those things...

She shuddered. Just how can you hit something that doesn't have a body? She just cope with things that had a body but something made of mist and shadow? How could you fight that? That and they were under the control of someone she still didn't fully trust. Yeah, he'd helped save Ulrich the day before but there was something off in the smell of him today. The last time he'd smelt like that it was when he was trying to convince her and Thorian to come back to the Abbey with him and she was pretty sure that he had done something terrible while they were there. The smell of blood was too distinctive for someone with her nose, even if it had not been visible on his clothes.

They pressed on into the dark, the light of the kerveads only just lighting their way so Kaelin trailed her finger tips along the rock wall, the stone uneven and time worn under her touch. The walk took on the timeless quality of a dream, eyes straining to see in the gloom, the muffled sounds of their steps susurrating back to them out of the throat of stone. Kaelin felt her mind begin to drift in the dark, the world around them becoming more and more unreal. Part of her knew that she had always seemed to be walking in the dark, always shut out of the light, her longing to find her place outside of the dark the dreams of a silly, stupid child. She had been born into the dark, it swam in her blood, it grew in her bones. Who was she fooling to think that she could leave it behind? No matter how far she ran she was always going to run back to it in the end. It was where she belonged.

She sneezed and shook her head, fighting to get her grandfather's voice out of her mind. Damn it, the only thing she wanted to run from was that damn freak. Why could he just leave her alone? She wasn't his property. She wasn't a thing. You could own things but people weren't things. And that she realized was the problem with Jeremiah, he was another one who looked at people as if they were more things than people. She shuddered at the sound of the foot steps behind her, the foots steps of many but the breath of only one. After this she was going to warn Stink of the Midden to be more careful around the Mage of Thunder. A reminder that he was a hue-man and therefore should be treated with a degree of fear might be timely, she was picking up a certain degree of dislike in Jeremiah's scent when he was talking to the goblin or rather, when the goblin was talking to him.

She jerked her hand from the wall with a wordless exclamation, muffled in haste.

"What's the matter?" Thorian's voice came out of the dark, with some degree of control over his volume for once.

"I'm not sure," Kaelin stretched out her hand again, carefully brushing her finger tips over the wall, "Any chance of one of those light vials being brought this way?"

Stink of the Midden wriggled his way back down the corridor to where she was standing, holding the vial of kerveads up high. Kaelin peered closely at the wall.

"It's been masoned," she reported, "This isn't a cave, its a tunnel."

"Surely you exaggerate my dear Kaelin," Jeremiah's voice drifted out of the dark, "We haven't crossed any threshold that I've seen."

"Well if you've ever seen perfect squares any where in nature I'm willing to be persuaded that we are not in a tunnel," Kaelin rolled her eyes unseen in the darkness, "If not, then someone has lined this tunnel with masoned stones."

"Why would they do that?" Thorian's frown was so strong it could be heard in his voice.

"My guess would be that we are approaching some where important to the at least some of the denizens of this world," Ulrich noted, "There was something in the book Governor Risgath gave me that said that Ash Elves do have a type of architecture, valuing slaves that have any skill at working stone and metal, or sometimes trading with the other races that live down here to have caves that have a social significance lined and decorated. Some of the out right caverns they'll actually build whole houses in. We haven't seen any caverns like that yet but apparently there are some really big ones down here that would have you believing that you are some where topside on a moonless night if it wasn't for the fact that it never rains."

"Well then," Jeremiah grinned in the dark, "It seems we are finally approaching the end of our quest. Lead on, Thunder warriors, lead on."

Kaelin rolled her eyes at Jeremiah's pompous tone but as she started to follow her living companions she took a moment to call up the wolf, feeling it tense and stretch just below her muscles. As far as she was concerned any where the Ash Elves considered important was going to be trouble with a Capital 'T'.

As they marched deeper into the realm of the Ash Elves the darkness actually lifted slightly, chunks of crystal set within the walls, shining back and increasing the light provided by the goblins make shift torches. Part of Kaelin wished that they didn't as the reliefs carved into the walls were not designed to bring comfort. They seemed to have a love for trampling on other races and glorified it in their artwork, coming up with ever more inventive ways of tormenting their prisoners. There was also panels that seemed to display some of their history but Kaelin couldn't work out all the details in the short amount of time she could see them. She guessed that most of them were to do with how the clans had picked their motifs but one relief however, made her pause and look more closely.

The first thing that stuck her was that it was clearly taking place above ground as a moon arched high over the scene below, a Chester cat's grin of a moon that shone down on the edge of the water, each wave carved with intricate, almost painful detail. She half expected the water to move and sigh with its never ending hunger. Gathered on the shore the Ash Elves knelt in supplication to the figure that rose from the waves, large than life, staff of office raised high over its head, if you could call that grotesque thing a head. The skull was far too long and pointed to be natural and the face had eyes that were far too far apart to be comfortable. It also had no nose or mouth, its lower face a nest of writhing tentacles that whipped and coiled as it looked down upon its adoring crowd.

"Er, Ulrich?" she called quietly through the dark, "Did that book of yours make any mention about were those Begetters happened to live?"

"Not exactly," he admitted, "Just some references about the Deeps. I have to admit I figured that it meant some where in the depths of the Underworld as that is where the Ash Elves retreated to. I figured that they were trying to rediscover their creators. Why do you ask?"

"Because the oceans have depths as well," Kaelin said, "And there are interesting things living down there on the sea floor."

"Could be..." Ulrich admitted, trailing off. Light had bloomed up ahead, revealing a corridor not only lined with shaped and chiselled stone but faux pillars holding up carved lintels. The light itself came from a doorway, the lintel of which was carved in the form of a massive spider, its legs reaching from one side of the corridor to the other, its many eyes gleaming with gems set in its carved eye sockets. Stink of the Midden and his goblins chittered with nerves, forking fingers at the image as if they thought that it was about to crawl down off the lintel and eat them. Kaelin looked at it and shuddered. Then she looked closer and wished she hadn't. The spider's body wasn't the spider's body, it was that snarling snout of a dragon that grinned down at her. The moment of the light in its gem stone eyes made it look like it was winking at her. Kaelin twisted her mouth and then stuck her tongue out at it. She knew it was childish but it made her feel better about the whole thing.

"Well, here we go," Ulrich said quietly, drawing the sword he favored for his right hand, "We few, we lucky few."

"We band of buggered!" Kaelin muttered but they were stepping through the archway.

The room beyond had a high ceiling and was ancient, the stalactites that had been hacked off and smoothed out when the cave was lined to turn it into a temple had grow back, dripping down through the gaps in the stone, looked uncannily like tree roots forcing their way through the stones of a drain. The reliefs on the walls continued the themes of death and glory and monsters that scuttled in the dark. More pressing was what the room contained. Scattered across the floor where heaps of eggs. Kaelin frowned as she stepped into the room herself and saw them. They were that large there was no doubt that they were the eggs of dragons but they were not laid out in the neat concentric rings of a dragons nest and neither were they laid in the hollows that dragons eggs would be. Instead they were heaped up in piles like the eggs of some insects and cushioned on white, spongy, fibrous looking mats. Kaelin felt her mouth go dry as she started to realize what that carving over the lintel of the doorway meant.

The bowel clenching horror of it nearly made her miss the fact that they weren't the only ones in the cave. It was Thorian's cheerful shout that woke her to the real danger of the place.

"It's Thorian time!"

She turned her head to see Thorian go crashing towards a huddle of Ash Elves and dog sized spiders that clicked and wave their paps at him, while Ulrich charged straight into the heart of the largest knot of Ash Elves, an armed guard surrounding the Ash Elf noble woman who was tending to the larest pile of eggs in the center of the... room? Temple, temple was a better word for it. Screw that, why was she even worried about what the blasted room was? The wolf jumped forward, stretching out her jaws, fangs springing through gums with the noise of nails being hammered through a plank of wood and this time the change rippled down her arms, her fingers hooking over as new cells coating the ends of her finger bones activated, pushing claws out through her skin. That was better, the world looked much simpler now. She sniffed once as Thorian's sword rang against the blade of an Ash elf. Friend. She sniffed again as a bolt from an Ash Elf crossbow whistled passed her. Foe! Her lips peeled back from her teeth and she leapt forward.

Behind her Stink of the Midden and his goblins surged to the left of the tunnel opening, hacking into the front line of spiders with glee. The Ash Elves standing further back blinked in surprise at the little green skins ferocity, then three unlimbered their swords, striding forward to meet them as the other two cocked their crossbows.

Jeremiah strode into the temple and looked round as tooth and blade crashed to his right, spiders and Ash Elf bows threatening to surround Thorian and Kaelin while to his left Stink of the Midden yelled encouragement to his fellows even as one of them fell to an spider's bite. Ahead, Ulrich grunted as Ash Elf body guard slashed him across the shoulders but failed to stop him bursting through their ranks and coming face to face with the Noble who sneered at him even as her finely wrought blade whispered from its sheath.

Jeremiah smiled and gestured for his puppeted Ash Elves to form up around him. He heard the Nobles shriek of disgust as they complied but he paid it no mind as he concentrated a moment and then the centipedes that had been crawling up the tunnel behind him boiled out to the entrance, pouring over the walls to get round the plug that was Jeremiah. Several Ash Elves stared as the tide of chitin, a mistake as it gave Thorian time to get a really decent swing in. An Ash Elf paid for his distraction with his life, coming apart at the waist, being very deceased by the time he hit the floor. Kaelin set her teeth into a spider and savaged it, snapping it from side to side with shakes of her head.

Stink of the Midden and his goblins managed to chop one of the spiders in front of them to pieces and one of the other spiders started backing away, something like fear showing in its eyes. The Ash elves of that troop pushed forward, blades hissing through the air but Stink of the Midden proved to be fast, ducking and dodging round the blows struck at him. He made a very indelicate sound up at the elves glaring down at him, causing their lips to twist into feral snarls. Stink of the Midden waggled his tongue at them.

Ulrich's blade rang against that of the Elf Noble. Her expression didn't change as her body guards closed in around him but as he evaded their strikes and blows her eyebrows rose, even as she ducked out of combat, intending to let her body guards finish the job. Her mouth pursed and a speculative look came into her eyes.

Thorian and Kaelin continued their fight against the troop to Jeremiah's right, aided and abetted by the four centipedes that he had sent that way. Granted one of his puppets took a battering as a spider tried to poison it to death the same time as an Ash Elf sheered one of its mouth parts off. To his left one of the goblins cried out as a bolt thudded home into his arm. Stink of the Midden responded with such a rage, stabbing and striking at the feet of the elf in front of him, that the elf was forced to do a very awkward, almost comical dance to avoid the goblin's little blade. Jeremiah smiled as he came up behind Stink of the Midden, the words of a vile and depraved pray falling from his lips, lined with blood as his tongue split and blistered even as it shaped the dialect of the Abyss.

Stink of the Midden didn't even have a chance to cry out as a hand grabbed the top of his head, yanked his skull back and then the cold metal sliced...

"For the glory of Klu'ga-nath!" Jeremiah's eyes shone with an unholy light as the goblin gargled and choked his last, the dark red flood pouring across the flagstones. Even the Ash Elves were stunned, stepping back as something that was not light but neither was it shadows twinned for a moment around Jeremiah and then burst. The shock wave rolled through the temple and even the noble lifted her hand to protect her eyes.

With a hideous squeal wounded spider, injured goblin and battered centipede dropped to the floor, writhed, curled up and died, eyes stretched wide by what they thought they saw in the unlight, faces set in bone chilling parodies of expressions, muscles trying to show something that no mortal could fully express. Ever hair on Kaelin's body stood up as straight and as stiff as a needle and she howled with pain, the pack's salute to a fallen comrade. The spider in front of her had about half a heartbeat before it was a greasy stain on the floor, smeared into none existence.

Jeremiah ducked as an Ash Elf cocked a crossbow and aimed at him. Seizing one of Stink of the Midden's stunned comrades, he yanked the goblin up in front of him. It jerked as the bolt smacked into its midriff, stunned disbelief on its face.

"To Klu'ga-nath I give your soul," Jeremiah smiled, even as the blood stained his beard.

Ulrich's centipede managed an grating agonized hissing shrill that could only be its attempt at a scream and lunged sideways, shaking its head in agony but Ulrich reached out with his left hand and yanked its head round by an antennae. He yelled as pain flared up his arm and burned in his shoulder but he hung on, dragging the centipede round in a circle until he faced the noble again. Something in her expression gave him an idea. A knee to the centipede's side sent it slamming between the two members of her bodyguard that had surrounded him, sending them tumbling out of his way. He dived rolled off of its back, suppressing the urge to scream as the pain licked up his arm again, and came to the knee at her feet.

"Great lady, allow me to say that of all the hidden beauties in this or any other realm we have seen you shine the brightest. No darkness could hide your radiance for it gleams in the darkness like a star in the vault of heaven, a gem in the heart of Hestia," he tried to gaze up at her with adoration.

She looked at him with a certain degree of curiosity, her eyes flicking to first Jeremiah and then Kaelin as they continued their bloody work. So far her Ash elves had held their own, their pet spiders taking the casualties but how long was that going to last? She held up her hand as her body guards stepped forward, blades leveled at his body. They paused, faces unhappy. She leaned forward, fingers brushing the bandage on his upper arm. She looked at his face and he looked her in the eye. That seemed to either impress her or give her permission or maybe both. Her finger slipped under the bandage and lifted it slightly. She lifted her eyebrows at what she found there.

"You were touched by her fangs?" her voice held a rich melody, "Her venom sank deep?"

"To the bone, I am assured," Ulrich replied, not looking down. He did not expect the smile that crossed her face and definitely did not expect the hand that took his and lifted him to his feet. Her grip was surprisingly strong and firm, her slim fingers hiding a surprising toughness. Turning slightly she trilled something in a lilting tongue that was none the less penetrating in its tones. Her body guards lower their swords, faces sullen and mistrustful. Around the Temple, Ash Elves lowered their weapons and stepped back, calling what was left of their pets to heel.

"Weapons down people!" Ulrich ordered, "Truce and parley! They are willing to talk!"

"You what?" Thorian looked round in disbelief, "Since when have pointy ears wanted to talk?"

Kaelin was already moving, a bestial snarl rising in her throat, eyes shifting through amber yellow to crimson as the object of her hate fell under her gaze. Even as she approached the last two of the remaining goblins were fleeing back the way they had come, sobbing and crying.

"Now Kaelin," Jeremiah smiled oily as he stepped smarty behind the ranks of his puppeted Ash Elves, "I'm sure we can come to an understanding."

Kaelin wasn't listening, fur bristling as she stamped forward, fangs dripping. Jeremiah flicked a finger. A puppet stepped forward, blade lifting. Kaelin's fist smacked into its wrist that hard the bones cracked, the sword going spinning off into the shadows as the puppeted Ash Elf's forearm bent backwards on its self, bones erupting through the skin. It didn't scream, face impassive even as her bull rush staggered it back. Kaelin's claws sank deep into its rib cage, twinning into its bones. Growling and snarling, her muscles bulged as she pulled. With the noise of tearing meat the puppeted Ash Elf came apart in a welter of torn tissue and black, congealed blood.

Jeremiah got his arm up, just in time. He screamed as Kaelin's fangs sank deep and worried at his muscle. He screamed again as his bones creaked under her jaw power and he flicked his free hand desperately.

Kaelin released and yanked her head back just in time as the puppet's blade whistled through the air where her neck should have been. Her back hand blow sent the puppet tumbling across the floor and she turned snarling on Jeremiah. He retreated, hand clutching his bleeding arm. It seemed that, despite all his efforts with their supplies, Jeremiah wasn't carrying quite as much padding as he used to and her teeth had met meat, rather than just fat.

Kaelin's blooded jaws opened wide again.

"You really are pleasing to my god," Jeremiah's grin was all the more vile for the pain laced through it, giving a even darker undertone to the triumph in that look.

Kaelin stopped, ears flicking forward.

"Betrayal, infighting, the break down of teamwork," Jeremiah's grin spread even more, "Klu'ga-nuth would be pleased with you."

Kaelin shivered as she fought the beast back into its cage, bones creaking and cracking as jaws and claws retracted. She didn't wipe her bloodied mouth.

"Do you know what I hope, Jeremiah?" she spat, "I hope you are judged and found wanting. I hope that other gods look at you and realized what a worthless, weak, pathetic little cockroach you are! I hope they find a way to make sure Stink of the Midden's soul is there to watch you perish and he gets to give you a damn good kick in the pants as your soul goes down to whatever hell they have chosen for you, you Freak!"

A quiet hand clap rang out. The Ash Elf Noble was applauding.

"Tell me, how did you tame her?" she asked Ulrich. Kaelin bristled.

"Not so much tamed as encouraged her to see us as pack," Ulrich explained, "The wolf is loyal to its family above all else, especially when that family is the one chosen rather than the one it was born into."

The Ash Elf frowned and very fetching the expression looked too as it made the end of her nose tip up. The other Ash Elves looked away but Ulrich admired it openly and that seemed to please her.

"I will admit that I do not understand your last statement," she admitted, "To us the clan is everything and the clan is forever but perhaps it is different for lesser creatures."

"And am I such a lesser creature?" Ulrich asked smiling.

"Let us say that perhaps I am entertaining the idea that you might be capable of being more. After all, you have some impressive pets. That one particularly," she gestured to Jeremiah, "Has a ruthlessness that would mark him as valuable to the clans."

He smiled and bowed to her, even as he still clutched his ragged arm.

"So, what brings such notable surface dwellers to the Underworld," she asked, ignoring Jeremiah's injury, "It is unusual for your kind to come into our realm and to manage so well. You must be mighty warriors of the surface world."

"Well we are not known as the King's Special for nothing," Ulrich smiled easily, "As for why we are here, we'd rather like to know why the Noble Ash Elves are now set on conquering the surface world. After all, we do know that the surface world is some what drab and dull with its insipid wild life and inclement weather so we are curious as to why you can be bothered with us?"

Her expression became shuttered and her guards moved uneasily.

"It has become a necessity," she said carefully.

"But if that necessity was removed?" Ulrich asked, "If what has been changed was changed back? Would the noble Ash Elves be content to go back to leaving the Surface World more or less in peace?"

She thought about it, casing a look over her guards. They all looked down, avoiding her gaze. She seemed to do some internal calculation.

"The Matriarchs would have to consider it," she stated at last, "But if the balance of our world is resorted then we would most likely decrease our quests of acquisition."

"Then it seems to me that we have grounds for an accord," Ulrich held out his hand, "My lady."

"Indeed we do," she smiled as she laid her hand in his. She seemed pleasantly surprised when he raised it to his lips and kissed her fingers.

"Er, what just happen?" Thorian asked.