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The Human From a Dungeon 42
🕑 Added 2024-03-11 12:21:20 +0000 UTCChapter 42
Nick Smith
Adventurer Level: 7
Human - American
"You want me to VOMIT in PUBLIC?" Yssinirath hissed.
"Sire, we can be mindful of your dignity whilst you are ejecting the daemon," Oakmor said, unable to hide his grin. "We can set up curtains to mask what is being done."
"Everyone will still know what happened!"
"At least it isn't out the other end, your majesty," I added, trying to be helpful.
The High Dragon's furious eyes focused on me and I felt my blood freeze again. I am an idiot, and silently vowed to keep my mouth shut as often as possible.
"High Dragons do NOT defecate, boy," he hissed.
"Really?" I asked incredulously, unable to keep my vow.
"You think I lie? We are smart enough to take care with what we eat, and our bodies use every last bit of what we consume," Yssinirath explained.
"This is true, Nick," Oakmor said. "The purpose of a High Dragon's intestinal tract appears to be for flatulence, not defecation."
Yssinirath slowly turned his attention from me to the regent.
"If there is a single person in our ever-growing audience that can understand what you just said, I will bite you in half."
"Apologies, your highness. I meant only to educate, not offend," Oakmor said as he lowered his head, masking that his grin had widened.
"Enough," Yssinirath growled. "Truth be told, I would enjoy being free of this burden."
"I will make the arrangements, your majesty."
Oakmor bowed deeply, then began explaining the plan to some of the gathered people. As he began to walk away, Yulk scooched over to me and gave me a nudge.
"Nick," he said. "Could you ask the King if he would mind answering some questions?"
"What?" I asked, thinking I may have hallucinated what I had just heard.
"I want to ask the King some questions. This is an amazingly rare opportunity," he explained. "Not only to interview a High Dragon, but to interview one with a first-hand account of the Cataclysm Wars."
"I... wait, don't you want to know HOW I can talk to him?"
"With Ten, obviously," Nash interrupted. "Yulk's right, Nick. As long as you're polite with the questions, you've got nothing to be afraid of."
Easy for him to say. Yssinirath was watching Oakmor, impatiently tapping one of his claws on the ground. The claw in question is easily as big as I am, and I could feel the ground shake slightly with each tap. I had also noticed that when he had grinned earlier, his teeth were the size of my head. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that the High Dragon could erase everyone present if he so wished.
"Please, Nick," Yash pouted.
It was a ridiculous sight that immediately pulled me out of the anxiety spiral I had been swirling down. He pushed his lower lip forward, and it caught on his teeth. The lip looked kind of like one of those seashell soap holders. I smiled and shook my head.
"Fine, but if we die I want it on the record that it's your fault," I told him, then looked up at the dragon. "Excuse me, your highness."
"What is it?" Yssinirath met my gaze.
"Would you mind if we asked you some questions? This orc, Yulk, would like to know more about the Cataclysm Wars."
The dragon's brow furrowed, then he sighed through his nose.
"So be it. Ask your questions."
"He said yes," I told Yulk.
"Excellent. Ask him what started the war, and if he knows how the daemons entered our world."
I nodded and repeated the question to Yssinirath, settling into the role of interpreter.
"The daemonic invasion was the cause of the war," Yssinirath chuckled. "Though, many nations were already at war before their invasion. The daemons entered our world through vast portals, though how these portals were created eludes me. I do know that these portals worked both ways, though, as the daemons brought many mer back through with them."
"Who made the wastes?"
"Multiple parties. Daemons, anyels, and mer sorcerers fought viciously to destroy each other's forces, and the mass corruption of nature was the result. Those that were responsible cared little for the environment, or even the safety of their own soldiers."
"What about the monsters? Who created them?"
"The daemons created many monsters to destroy the mer, bastardizing nature's own creations in the process. The mer quickly followed suit, justifying their actions as a means to survive the onslaught. Many of the monsters predate the war, though, and nobody knew where they originate."
"Why did the daemons invade?"
"They did not stop to explain themselves," Yssinirath chuckled. "If a scholar of this age does not know their reasons, then they must truly be lost to time."
"What about the daemon in your belly?" I asked before I told Yulk what the king had said. "Wouldn't he know?"
"He is little more than bone. His mind was destroyed by the acids within me long ago," Yssinirath shook his head. "He wouldn't even know his own name by now."
I informed Yulk of the King's response to both of our questions. He nodded and continued his questions.
"How long have you ruled over Bolisir?"
"Hmm..." Yssinirath paused. "One moment."
The King hissed unintelligibly and his eyes flashed blue for an instant. Whatever just happened caused his brows to rise and his slight smile to fade.
"By Bogglerath, it has been eighteen thousand, seven hundred eighty-two years. It doesn't feel like nearly that long. Apparently time flies more than I do," he said with a sigh.
"Bogglerath?" I asked.
"The first High Dragon. She was given intelligence as a reward for defeating a god in combat, and became the mother of all High Dragons. She has become somewhat deified, obviously."
As I explained this to Yulk, elves and gnomes started bringing supplies to enact Regent Oakmor's plan. Yulk reminded me of what Joni had said about the Prignira Account of the Cataclysm Wars and asked me to verify it with King Yssinirath.
"I am unfamiliar with Prignira, but there was an underground dwarven kingdom named Masseura on the southern continent. The events themselves are accurate, though I know not of any daemonic conspiracies prior to the war. Perhaps they are referring to the actions of the cult. Or it could be a convenient cover-up for some of the abysmal actions committed by the various royal families of the time."
"What kind of actions?"
"Before the daemons invaded, the lands were at war. Bolisir was one of the only nations that managed to stay out of it, but my father was wise and had spies in various nations that may have tried something. We received word of terrible state-sanctioned experiments, all in the name of one-upping their neighbors on the field of battle. This is one of the main reasons we reacted to the cult in the way that we did, and why we didn't chase them over our borders. We suspected that they may have had royal backing, and crossing over our borders may have dragged us into wars that we wanted no part of."
Yulk appeared deep in thought as I explained what the High Dragon had said. As I finished, Regent Oakmor approached us.
"We are nearly ready, your majesty," he said as a group of gnomes carried a large, cube-shaped container past him.
The gnomes lowered the steel container to the ground with a thud, and a two groups of elves approached. One group had bags of what appeared to be powdered concrete mix, and began pouring them into the container. The other group began to set up tall curtains around Yssinirath. The High Dragon eyed them warily, but did not interfere.
Another group of elves carrying water and oars replaced the group with the concrete powder at the container. They added the water to the powder and began to stir it. We watched as the groups took turns at the container, adding more powder and water until it was nearly filled. Once they were finished, Oakmor gestured to the group around the curtains, and they drew the curtains around the High Dragon.
"Your majesty, please do not regurgitate directly into the box. Your, for lack of a better phrase, stomach juices will likely be detrimental to the concrete," Oakmor explained.
"Regurgitate. What a disgusting word," Yssinirath hissed. "Fine."
His head lowered beneath the curtain, and after a moment a sound that can only be described as disturbingly slimy made its way to our ears. I had expected to hear the sound of retching, but the sound I heard instead nearly made me gag. Like... forcing a bowling ball covered in not-quite done jelly through a hose or something. I looked at my companions and could tell the sound had the same impact on them. Another moment later, Yssinirath's head appeared above the curtain.
"It is done," he said.
"Thank you, your majesty," Oakmor gestured to a group of gnomes who were carrying a steel square with small holes in it.
The elves dragged the curtain back and the gnomes put the steel square on top of the container, hammering it down to form a lid. The container began to make a sloshing sound, and some concrete splashed out of the holes in the top.
"Oh, already?" Oakmor said, sounding flabbergasted. "Cure the concrete, quickly."
Four elves walked up to the container and began casting various spells. The sloshing ceased with a stark crack, and the elves nodded to Oakmor. One of the gnomes walked up, shaking his head.
"I think he might've moved around and weakened the concrete, sir," the gnome reported. "That crack wasn't a good sound."
"That's alright, we'll just leave the cube in the container," the regent rubbed his chin. "Maybe we'll have a smith weld some bars on it just to be sure."
"Yes, your hi... Uh... Lord Regent," the gnome said, looking at King Yssinirath. "Gonna take some getting used to."
"Not all all, my good mer," Oakmor said with a grin. "Take the container to Horav's smithy. He's got plenty of steel scrap to use as bracing. Let him know that we want the cube to never open again."
The gnome nodded and started giving orders to his crew. They, along with some help from the elves, managed to get the steel cube into a cart and started transporting it away. Oakmor watched them for a moment, and then turned back to the High Dragon.
"Your highness," he bowed. "This is the perfect occasion for a feast. Will you permit us to celebrate your return to the throne?"
"Certainly," Yssinirath said. "However, I require some calisthenics. It has been far too long since I've last stretched my wings. Feel free to celebrate without me, I will rejoin you soon."
The High Dragon stood, causing several shocked gasps from the surrounding crowd. I thought he was huge while he was laying down, but his true height was mind-boggling. He stretched his neck and limbs, and his bones cracked like trees in a storm.
Finally, he spread his mighty wings. The white skin on his wings featured blue veins that seemed to form a sort of symbol. Before I could get a good look at it, though, the wings flapped and sent a gust of air at us that nearly sent me sprawling. I managed to see a gnome fly back a foot or two, and when I turned back to the High Dragon, he was gone.
I looked to the sky to see if I could spot him, but he had disappeared with a frightening speed. The implications of how quickly he had moved set in, and I couldn't help but shudder a little. Big things shouldn't be able to move that fast. It's unnatural.
"Well, what a fantastic day! Hopefully I can retire soon," Regent Oakmor smiled.
"I doubt it, Lord Regent," a nearby elf said. "You're the only one that understands the king."
"Oh... shit."
Comments
David Ellis
But have these people never heard of the Bus Factor? What would they do if the Lord Regent died before someone else learned how to speak with their Dragon King? Surely there should've been some elite cadre of people who are taught High Drakonic for this purpose? At least for the street cred to be able to show off that you can speak it?
AliKat309
oh... shit is right haha
