Chapter 154: Servant of the Axe, 54 – Dragonheart Discussions
Servant of the Axe
Chapter 54
Dragonheart Discussions
“My answer must be no; the information you seek is dearer to me than the information you provide.” The Dragon ultimately decided.
I shrugged. “Well, then what other questions would you ask?”
“What other information would you ask?”
“What is the way to cure or destroy or negate Taint?”
.....
“Ha! Worth more than what you asked before!”
“So, you admit it exists?”
“Is that your question?”
“No,” I decided, “I guess not. I don’t see us coming to an agreement regarding that.”
“Perhaps you could tell me why you hold it in such high regard?”
“So nearly as I can tell, it is a great secret of my people, and unique among the Systems. I have heard tales of other shapeshifters, but their gifts seem to work in other ways.”
“Hrm. I cannot deny your feelings, but I will get an answer eventually, if through another. Very well, what would you say if I desired to hire you?”
“It would depend what you wanted. I am sworn to the service of Rakkal the Axe, and will not willingly betray that.”
“I merely wish you to take one being north with you when you return to your homeland.”
“Whom?”
“Now, now. I clearly want safe conduct and secrecy before I provide such information.”
“Which I’ve just told you I cannot provide. Not if the individual represents a threat to the Red Tide Empire.”
“And your devilish wife? Does she not represent a threat to your precious empire?”
“She has a contract keeping her roughly in her place.”
“Only roughly?”
“The mortal who believes that any daemon is entirely controlled is deluding themselves.”
“Ah, so you know that you’re playing with the fires of hell. You know you’re going to get burned, and yet you play their game.” He blinked at me, and blinked again. “Oho, and at a price I didn’t believe at first.”
“Why not? Surely in your long life you’ve known many Truthspeakers?”
“Most only hold the class for a few years before their own nature betrays them. Forgive me if I choose to wait a decade or so.”
“Of course. I am surprised at how often my Truthspeaker oath compels me to silence.”
“Does it now? Interesting...”
Crap, how did he NOT know that? What other facts had I let slip for free? Dragons were devious, like hobgoblins on... okay, I’ve no clue what would make someone even more devious.
The tea finally arrived, in a teapot of Daurian porcelain, decorated artfully with blue sparrows and winding green vines.
“Do you like the teaset?” he asked.
“I find the artwork very appealing, though I could not say why.”
“I also find the medium, the theme, and the art style to be congruent. That teaset is of some emotional value to me.”
“Then, as a guest, I shall attempt to take care of it.”
“Be sure to. Drink up.”
“In the custom of my empire’s culture, perhaps you’ll permit me to wait until your coffee is ready?”
“Of course. Shall we be toasting to your health first, or mine?”
“As the guest, I believe it is proper for me to lead.” I said.
“Very good, then we shall wait.”
#
“In the meantime,” the Dragon said, “I believe it is customary for the guest to share recent news with the host.”
He was correct, so I told him of events from the time of our latest run-in with Clan Octopus until the start of our classes.
“Oh, quite so. The sugar shortage comes from the shortage of sugar canes, of which I am the primary local grower. I should like to meet this Gamilla someday.”
“If you wish me to bear a letter of invitation to her when I return..”
“IF you return. Do not mistake my courtesy for weakness, young serpent.”
“Of the many things you’ve been mistaken as being, I doubt weak is among them.”
In the darkness, a hand twirled at about the right height for plucking the head off an ogre and tossing it into the corner. “You might be surprised and amused.”
“Or just depressed by the boundless stupidity that seems to know no end.”
“I know that feeling quite well. Ah, my coffee arrives.”
Four men bore a palanquin-like device on which resided a metal cup, large enough to drown a man in.
With the sound of a monument sliding along stone, the dragon drew himself forward, further into the dwindling light. I hesitate to call something of his size thin, and he was clearly not of the breed of Lung dragons found in Dauria. But neither was he fat; without having bulging muscles, he projected an aura of raw physical power.
He was vital, serpentine, some part of him always in motion. I could see why others might call dragons hypnotic, or natural tyrants. And... he was regarding me. Perhaps judging my reaction?
I filled a delicate teacup, and raised it in toast. “To your good health. May you enjoy many long centuries life, and sire those worthy of taking up the reigns of your empire when you live no more.”
“What an odd toast.” He said. “Hear, hear. From your lips to the ears of the gods.”
We sipped our beverages. The smell of his was so strong that it almost masked the sweet, acidic taste of my own drink.
[Level 2 poison ingested. Resist Poison check successful. You have taken 3 points of Toxic damage. 1/30 Health remain.]
[Your pain threshold has exceeded your remaining health, you will experience a brief period of unconsciousness.]
I managed to remain conscious enough to return my cup to the table; if it broke, I never heard it fall.
I heard me fall, with a dull meaty slap.
“Oh dear.” Said the Dragon. “Mandrake tea appears to disagree with our guest. Very well, take what’s left of him and dump it in the port he was taken from.”
In blotches, color faded from my world, and became darkness.
#
If you ever recover from being poisoned in an icebox, I recommend having a thicker layer of blubber than I had at the time. I mean, brr!
My breath came quickly, as did my heartbeat. I could see things that did not, could not possibly have existed, some of them bearing colors I could not then put a name to, of sheens both natural and un-natural.
There is a reason why some branches of Shaman ingested toxic or hallucinatory plants; having tried it, I can say that I’m not a big fan. Whether natural or supernatural, I prefer being able to trust what my senses report to me, no matter how bizarre or unlikely what they perceive.
With careful motions, I freed my body from where ice had locked onto my scales. My head had been at an angle that was uncomfortable even for me. Sitting up, I discovered that nothing I was perceiving was due to light; although vibrant visions danced before my eyes, I was physically in utter darkness.
Likewise, my senses of taste, smell, and touch seemed muted by the cold. Okay, then. Touch it was.
There were a number of slabs of meat and links of sausages suspended from hooks, mostly frozen solid. There were spaces for five more bodies, but a variety of foodstuffs adorned the stone slabs.
And I could eat none of it, lest I reveal that I was alive. Yes, in retrospect, the senses of a dragon are keen enough; he HAD to know I was still breathing and had a heartbeat. It is said by the ignorant that ignorance is bliss.
In retrospect, I’d have rather chomped down every little morsel of food that my stomach could handle from that icebox. But, mistakenly thinking I was pulling one over on the crew, if not the dragon, I returned to my slab, and began the evolutions for lower oxygen needs and extended lung capacity.
I performed my mystic and psychic regimens, and then, having nothing else to do, I examined my System.
I had undeveloped evolutions totaling some five thousand biomass that I just didn’t have.
I had only sixteen of the hundred development points for unlocking the reticule.
My nearest class to being acquired was Lifeshaper, at 81/100 XP. Of the classes I had, Manservant was in the lead at 135/300 XP toward level 2. Manservant! Stupid cleaning class.
I was 90% of the way to gaining Path of the Polymath, whose rewards were still hidden. Actually, it was probably more accurate that I was 98%, when you considered that Lifeshaper was an Eldritch class, and thus almost complete.
And, when I looked for them, I found the following Cosmic classes:
[Minor Devil 7/100 XP toward level 1.]
[Minor Demon 2/100 XP toward level 1.]
[Titan Blooded 12/100 XP toward level 1.]
.....
Considering the last of these was the one I’d been working on the longest, it wasn’t an encouraging comparison. It wasn’t the first time I’d looked at my development with regret, nor the strongest. But it was time to take a good, hard look at what I wanted to become.
An image of Vashathan, chained in the bottom of a cistern polluted with his own feces came into my mind. Or maybe, a good hard look at what I DIDN’T want to become.
#
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