beef.
Albino ducked under the cave entrance - it was a low hanging natural entry into the face of the rocky cliff. Outside it was raining in heavy sheets. The Mezanine was no stranger to horrible weather. The Gap was a jagged gouge in the bed of the countryside - a stretching expanse that split the coast and opened into the sea.
The sides of the Mezanine were populated by the Red Rock Khobalds. Their homes and other dwellings were scattered up and down the craggy walls - connected by planked boardwalks that they had built. Albino had come in from the sea. He had moored his boat at the bottom and carefully made his way up the steep incline - through the scaffolding township and to the uppermost overhang. The bridges and walkways were literally less than half his width - so the journey had been unnerving at best. Many times his booted heels had slipped on the rain slick alleys - pitching his body forward over the railing to see the roiling water several hundred feet below.
The cave was dank and smelled of that unkind lizard musk but he was thankful to be on more solid ground.
"Welcome to my home." Said a voice from the darkness. The silhouette of a small humanoid reptile was cast up on the cave wall - the black reflection of the Chief who sat before a small crackling fire. "Have you traveled long?"
Albino took off his plumed hat and shook out his long black hair. "I have."
"Sit by the fire. Share it with me."
Albino ducked a few hanging stalactites and sat on a stone near the fire. He glanced further into the cave and saw the belongings of the Chief. Small alchemy tables, littered with dried herbs and ferns, the bones of animals, and ground powders lined the back of the cavern. There was also the Chief's sleeping hammock suspended from the roof of the cave. It was an old fishing net stuffed with feathers and fur.
Albino began to smell the faint presence of tobacco and incense. The earthy aroma warmed his insides and he started to forget about the painful chill of his soaked boots. Lost in his daydream, Albino found his meandering stare fall on the Chief's face. The old lizard had an outward look of frailty - but there was a strength behind his glistening eyes. The Khobald puffed on his pipe and rolled the tip of his long white beard between the talons of his thumb and forefinger.
"You are one of the four." Stated Albino.
"Some would say..." Returned the Chief.
"The four of those who are the eldest - from the time before the Old Gods."
The Chief smiled his gap-filled grin - his bright green tongue flicking out to lick the sides of his muzzle. "You seek the Hag?"
"I am the Witch Finder General, I am bound by duty."
The old lizard stood. He stooped and hobbled around the fire to one of his benches. He picked up a dried fern. "I cannot remember my own birth." He said, tossing the fern into the fire. The flames popped and turned bright red - the warmth in the cavern intensified. “But there is much I do remember. The world has changed several times. I have seen heroes risen to Godhood, I have seen tyrants become lords.”
Abino shifted on his rock. He had come for information, not a lecture.
The Chief carried on. “Now Ryvendrest swells with a darkness within - a darkness of such a hungry, dismal nature that it threatens the tenuous warp of reality - not just that of the world - but all that our planet ties together.”
“The Hag, old man, what does this have to do with her?”
The Khobald blinked his eyes knowingly. “The Hag remembers her birth. It was from this darkness. The very same. She exists now as she does then - born of the horrible future but cursed to suffer in all facets of time at once.”
Albino leaned forward. “What are you saying?”
“Her death she remembers, as well, Witch Finder. She Knows The Cause Of It.” The air seemed to vibrate under the pressure of this last sentence - as if its utterance spun within the cave a tangible and foreboding omen. “The Hag is wound from the sourness of her own demise. She has had lifetimes to dwell on it. Plotting to avenge her own death.”
The Finder stood. He put his hand on his sword which hung at his side. “Revenge?”
“I will tell you how and where to find her - not because I wish her death - but because I know it is necessary. As is mine. As all elder things of the past must vanish to become what legends shape tomorrow.”
“I have no intention of killing you.”
“Not you. Others come to kill me and my people. Soon.”
“Can you not seek help?”
“I have seen the bleak future myself - and I am older now than I have ever been in any life. My death will serve greater purposes.”
“Who comes to kill you?”
“Unimportant. Know that only two will remain soon. Two as it was. As it will be.”
The sides of the Mezanine were populated by the Red Rock Khobalds. Their homes and other dwellings were scattered up and down the craggy walls - connected by planked boardwalks that they had built. Albino had come in from the sea. He had moored his boat at the bottom and carefully made his way up the steep incline - through the scaffolding township and to the uppermost overhang. The bridges and walkways were literally less than half his width - so the journey had been unnerving at best. Many times his booted heels had slipped on the rain slick alleys - pitching his body forward over the railing to see the roiling water several hundred feet below.
The cave was dank and smelled of that unkind lizard musk but he was thankful to be on more solid ground.
"Welcome to my home." Said a voice from the darkness. The silhouette of a small humanoid reptile was cast up on the cave wall - the black reflection of the Chief who sat before a small crackling fire. "Have you traveled long?"
Albino took off his plumed hat and shook out his long black hair. "I have."
"Sit by the fire. Share it with me."
Albino ducked a few hanging stalactites and sat on a stone near the fire. He glanced further into the cave and saw the belongings of the Chief. Small alchemy tables, littered with dried herbs and ferns, the bones of animals, and ground powders lined the back of the cavern. There was also the Chief's sleeping hammock suspended from the roof of the cave. It was an old fishing net stuffed with feathers and fur.
Albino began to smell the faint presence of tobacco and incense. The earthy aroma warmed his insides and he started to forget about the painful chill of his soaked boots. Lost in his daydream, Albino found his meandering stare fall on the Chief's face. The old lizard had an outward look of frailty - but there was a strength behind his glistening eyes. The Khobald puffed on his pipe and rolled the tip of his long white beard between the talons of his thumb and forefinger.
"You are one of the four." Stated Albino.
"Some would say..." Returned the Chief.
"The four of those who are the eldest - from the time before the Old Gods."
The Chief smiled his gap-filled grin - his bright green tongue flicking out to lick the sides of his muzzle. "You seek the Hag?"
"I am the Witch Finder General, I am bound by duty."
The old lizard stood. He stooped and hobbled around the fire to one of his benches. He picked up a dried fern. "I cannot remember my own birth." He said, tossing the fern into the fire. The flames popped and turned bright red - the warmth in the cavern intensified. “But there is much I do remember. The world has changed several times. I have seen heroes risen to Godhood, I have seen tyrants become lords.”
Abino shifted on his rock. He had come for information, not a lecture.
The Chief carried on. “Now Ryvendrest swells with a darkness within - a darkness of such a hungry, dismal nature that it threatens the tenuous warp of reality - not just that of the world - but all that our planet ties together.”
“The Hag, old man, what does this have to do with her?”
The Khobald blinked his eyes knowingly. “The Hag remembers her birth. It was from this darkness. The very same. She exists now as she does then - born of the horrible future but cursed to suffer in all facets of time at once.”
Albino leaned forward. “What are you saying?”
“Her death she remembers, as well, Witch Finder. She Knows The Cause Of It.” The air seemed to vibrate under the pressure of this last sentence - as if its utterance spun within the cave a tangible and foreboding omen. “The Hag is wound from the sourness of her own demise. She has had lifetimes to dwell on it. Plotting to avenge her own death.”
The Finder stood. He put his hand on his sword which hung at his side. “Revenge?”
“I will tell you how and where to find her - not because I wish her death - but because I know it is necessary. As is mine. As all elder things of the past must vanish to become what legends shape tomorrow.”
“I have no intention of killing you.”
“Not you. Others come to kill me and my people. Soon.”
“Can you not seek help?”
“I have seen the bleak future myself - and I am older now than I have ever been in any life. My death will serve greater purposes.”
“Who comes to kill you?”
“Unimportant. Know that only two will remain soon. Two as it was. As it will be.”