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The Human From a Dungeon 78
🕑 Added 2024-11-18 10:52:08 +0000 UTCChapter 78
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Cold. So cold. A deep, bitter cold, the kind that digs icy fangs straight into the bones, eagerly consuming any semblance of warmth. I am broken. Still broken. How long has it been since I was last whole? How did I get here? Where is this?
Vague pieces of recollection slipped away the moment I tried to focus on them with my addled mind. Nothing solid formed, just brief memories of sights, sounds, and smells. Then it occurred to me. Why can't I see?
As I adjusted to my current state, I quickly realized that I could also no longer breathe. Or move, for that matter. The question of whether or not I was still alive was answered by the hammering of my heart. It was all I could hear, as well.
Panic gripped me, but I could not flail, flinch, or scream. All my efforts did was make me tired. So tired. Then, I heard a crack. Was that me? I pushed harder and harder and heard more cracking, but my energy soon gave out. The last thing I remember before sleep took me was the feeling of something wet touching my face. Then, darkness.
A screech woke me with a start. Light! Precious light was all I could see, and it warmed my skin. I blinked and rubbed my eyes until they were able to focus again, then I looked around and found that the screeching was coming from nearby birds. They took to the sky as I stood.
Sand covered me and the ground. A massive body of water gently lapped at the sand as I brushed myself off. The ocean, and this must be a beach. The terms jumped into my mind, but I couldn't place where I learned them.
As I looked around, trying to figure out what I should do next, I came to a terrifying realization. I don't know anything about who I am, where I am, or why I'm here. All I could tell is that this place felt wrong. This disconcerting feeling of being displaced set me on edge.
Fear nipped at me, but I struck it down. There's hope in feeling out of place. If I feel out of place here, that means that there is a place for me elsewhere. All I need to do is find out where that is.
I walked inland from the beach and spotted a trail. Again, the term popped into my mind with no recollection of where it came from. But some information came along with it. Trails are formed when things walk in the same area frequently. Perhaps if I follow the trail, I'll find someone who can tell me what happened to me, and who I am.
Grunting to myself, I cautiously followed the trail, using the vegetation to the side of it was cover in case I needed to hide. The trail led to a much larger sort of path, a road. Roads are like trails, but for carts and livestock.
The sun was beginning to set, and so I chose the direction that kept the sunset at my back. This would reduce my visibility to others and allow me to identify them before they could identify me. Feeling somewhat secure with my decisions thus far, I carried on until I found structures.
I was suddenly able to remember some different structures. Grand constructions towering over... Stuff. Still vague, damn it. These structures were not anywhere near as grand, though. Crafted with loosely placed stone and bound straw, with mud as insulation, with wooden fences closing off the surrounding land.
Carefully, I drew close enough to observe the beings which reside in these structures. Tanned, tall, and muscular elves were working within the fences, striking the land with crude tools. Agriculture, the growing of food for herbivorous and omnivorous entities.
These elves were unlikely to assist me. The memory of my face eluded me, but the sight of my nude body was more than enough to tell me that I don't look anything like they do. A whisper of memory told me that they were once my enemies, as well.
What to do? If I were an elf, this would be much easier. I could simply stroll up to them and request their aid. The sudden appearance of a nude elf would likely startle them, but also appeal to their empathy.
The longing to be an elf took root in my mind, and I felt a crawling sensation across my skin. I nearly panicked, but it felt natural. Normal, even. A few moments later, my body looked very similar to the elves that were working on the land, though a little paler.
Enthralled by my transformation, I nearly forgot why it took place to begin with. Shaking myself back to reality, I continued to watch the elves and study their habits. They would already consider me strange, more so if I stuck out too much. I watched their movements, their body language when speaking to each other, their laughter, their anger, their reactions to to pain and exhaustion, and the work they were doing. Taking note of these things came naturally to me, as if I had been doing it my entire life.
The sun had traveled across the sky by the time I felt I had seen enough. I left the bushes I had been hiding in and began my approach. I walked with a slight limp, putting on a show of being exhausted and injured. When I reached the fence, I held up my arm and gave a weak groan.
The elves almost didn't notice, but once one of them spotted me it pointed me out to the rest. They spoke to each other for a moment, and I collapsed against the fence to give them a sense of urgency. The issue of language occurred to me as they ran to my aid.
"Hey, are you alright?" one of them asked.
Oh, good, I have familiarity with the way that they speak.
"Help," I uttered weakly. Then, I pretended to faint.
"Oh shit," one of the elves said.
They rushed to my aid and gently shook me in a fruitless attempt to revive me.
"What should we do?"
"Get him inside. I'll fetch the elder."
Two of the elves lifted me by my armpits and legs.
"Heavier than he looks," one of them complained. "Where did he come from?"
"I don't know," the other grunted. "We'll ask him once we save him, yeah?"
The elves carried me for a while, then deposited me on something soft. Maintaining my deception, I waited for the elves to decide what to do. They discussed my origin amongst themselves, and I selected the one that seemed most likely as my cover story. Before long, I heard the door to what could generously be called a hut open and several pairs of footsteps shuffled inside.
"Here he is, elder," someone said.
"Oh dear, I wonder what happened to the poor thing," a shaky feminine voice said. "Get him some water, please."
I next heard the sound of quickened footsteps, then the sloshing of scooped liquid. A moment later, a hand gently gripped the back of my head and lifted it. Water then poured into and over my mouth, and I struggled not to shudder at the vile taste as I drank to keep up appearances. Finally, much to my relief, the flow stopped and my head was released.
"He got a good bit of it in him. Now what, elder?"
"We can't do much more before knowing what happened," the elder said. "So, we wait."
"What if he's a criminal running from the law?"
"Well, keep an eye out for anyone that might be looking for him, dear. If they're a guard, we'll turn him over to them. If it's anyone else, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
The conversation continued for a bit after that, but I quickly found that I wasn't entirely faking my condition. I was extremely tired, and inadvertently fell asleep. When I awoke, I forgot my deception and opened my eyes to see an elderly elven female staring at me.
"Hello there," she said. "I'm Elder Imyo. Who are you?"
"I don't remember," I instinctively replied.
I caught a glimpse of my elf-shaped hand and remembered my goal. Infiltrate the elves and try to figure out how to restore my memories, or at least find out who I am. Or what I am. Damn, I had an entire cover story planned out. Probably best to stick with what I know, though.
"Do you remember what happened to you?" Imyo asked.
As if prompted by the question, brief flashes of fangs, fire, pain, and darkness stirred within the recesses of my mind. I had been trapped, but I know not by what means. How did I escape?
"No," I said. "All I remember is waking up on the beach, and going to find help. I was... Am very weak."
"That's right. You collapsed just outside of the Hant's field," she nodded solemnly, then smiled. "They grow tubers."
"I see. What's a tuber?"
The elderly elf raised an eyebrow at the question, but proceeded to explain to the best of her abilities. I had originally intended to pretend that I was attacked, but playing off of my amnesia turned out to be a much better deception. A grain of truth within a lie makes the lie easier to swallow.
We spoke at length, until Imyo volunteered to allow me to stay in the village. She had already received permission from the Hant family to allow me to stay in their stables. She took me to them, and they greeted me warmly. Then they fed me a rather disgusting meal made entirely of plants, but I followed their lead and pretended to enjoy it.
Then, they took me to the stable and showed me a bed of straw that I could sleep in. Once they were asleep, I began to explore my surroundings. I found a rodent of sorts gnawing on a leaf in the fields, and instinctively grabbed it, snapping its neck. Its life poured into me, and I felt a portion of my strength return.
A hunger that I hadn't been aware of was sated, and I was left holding the corpse of the rodent. With barely a thought, I threw it toward the treeline where it would be unlikely to be discovered. Satisfied, I went back to the stable and meditated on the bed of straw until morning.
In the morning, the elves came for me. They interrogated me about my well-being, then asked if I would like to work. Feeling much stronger than the day before, and wanting to bolster their opinion of me, I agreed to assist with the fields.
And thus began a routine. I would work the fields with the elves during the day and stalk for prey at night, taking care to dispose of the corpses accordingly. I learned several things about the elves during this time.
Goti Hant, the owner of the farm, was concerned for his daughters. They didn't seem to want to pursue mates or lives of their own, instead concerning themselves with what he considered to be minutia. He took a liking to me almost immediately, treating me as a confidant and friend. A fool above all.
Livti Hant, the matriarch of the family, had been an adventurer of some renown before settling down with Goti, whom she had saved from a pack of beasts. Her main concern revolved around their son, Plaro, who was by all accounts as dumb as the tools he wielded in the fields. I was able to easily confirm this to be the case.
The daughters, Yra and Ora, were twins and very close to each other. They enjoyed experimenting with different breeds of plants, and were very eager to speak at length on their various discoveries. All quite boring, of course, but it was easy to get caught up in their excitement. If anything, it stirred my hunger.
The sun rose and fell several times, and each time it did I learned more about the elves but very little about myself. Thankfully, consuming life only served to bolster my strength and was not a requirement for my continued survival. Still, it felt good and as such I left a miniature graveyard of small animals in my wake. I was, of course, careful to dispose of them outside of the village where predators could take care of them.
This continued for many days, until one day I saw something very strange. A trader had come to the village, but its elven features were as fake as my own. It also looked strikingly similar to my true form, but smaller. Weaker. A strange instinct told me that it was less than I, a peon to be used as I saw fit.
It appeared to have difficulty looking away from me, and I assumed that it could see my true form as well. Once it concluded its business, it set up a camp on the edge of the village. When night fell, I snuck out of the stable and sought the creature out at its camp.
"You shouldn't still be on this plane. How did you get here?" it asked as I approached.
"I do not know," I replied, taking a seat by the fire. "I can't remember anything."
"Really? Damn. I'm Thalomus the Immolator. Named as such because of my skill with the various forms of fire and fire related activities," Thalomus grinned wickedly, and the flames surged as if to prove his point. "Perhaps I can help you."
"I suspect that you can. But why would you?"
"You are a valuable asset to the Kings. If I help you, I'll be rewarded. Plus, once you've recovered, you might view me favorably."
"The Kings? Who are they? Why am I valuable to them?"
"The rulers of the hells. You're valuable to them because of your ability to shift and morph your body at will. My own disguise is a simple glamour, easily dispelled if one knows how. But you've actually changed your physical form. If it weren't for your aura, I wouldn't have recognized you at all."
"I can see how that would be useful... Was I a spy?"
"You really have lost your memories. No, no. Not a lowly spy like myself. Such a task would be wasted on one such as you. You, my lord, can change your physical form. Everything about it. You're able to make your muscles stronger than they should be. You're able to shape yourself so that you can move faster than anyone else. You can even fly, completely unassisted by magic. To top it off, your command of your body doesn't end with dismemberment. Your dismembered limbs heed your call as well, and you heal much faster than most," Thalomus chuckled and shook his head. "You're practically invincible."
"Then why am I not a king?" I asked with a laugh.
"Because the kings are stronger than you. They're so powerful that they can't even make it through the gates. Can't fit. As such, they're able to instantly annihilate you. But... You were known for having potential. One day you might be strong enough to challenge them."
Thalomus went on to explain that we are daemons, and he is here as an advanced scout in preparation for an invasion. Soon, we will try to once again take these lands as our own. All the lives we can eat, which was certainly a tempting proposition given my current diet of small animals. But I wasn't able to give my entire focus to this dream quite yet. There was still one burning question that had not been answered.
"Who am I?" I asked, once there was a lull in the explanation. "What is my name?"
"Oh, right. Apologies," Thalomus looked flustered. "I should have said right away."
We stared at each other for a moment, then he cleared his throat and smiled.
"You are Lord Hirgarus the Decimator, so called because of your ability to kill anyone who stands against you and leave entire lands barren of life," his smile turned into a grin as he bowed. "Welcome back, sire."
It took a moment to process this information. I'm a high ranking daemon, one that is nearly invincible? What exactly a daemon is still eludes me, though. Something I'll likely relearn in time, I'm sure.
"Come with me, sire," Thalomus said. "We have much to do."
Comments
Michael Halpern
digestive fluids
Ben Bass
TYFTC! Now this is an interesting thing - I wonder what was able to so damage and bring about the amnesia of Lord Hirgarus. Let’s see what happens next!
Michael Halpern
so that was the "damn fool thing" some mer were going to do..
