Deathsworn Arc: 02 - The Verkreath Horror

by Martyn Stanley

  Brael lunged straight for his target’s heart, but the Verkreath seemed to almost sense the danger and drew its own rusty blade, whirling it around into a defensive stance, knocking Brael’s blade aside. As they engaged, Votrex was upon the sleepers, as the furthest from the door was opening his eyes, Votrex’s axe fell cleanly upon it’s neck severing it’s head. Before the second could rouse, Vashni’s rapier-like blade was pressing into its neck while Korhan gently poked it’s torso with harbinger.

  Brael was now in full duel with his target, the clang of their blades echoing around the bubble deafeningly. Breal was good, but the Verkreath was fighting ferociously, sword in one hand, desperately clawing with the other and snapping at him with its teeth. Votrex having despatched his foe charged towards Brael’s opponent, his axe held high - the beast saw him out of the corner of his and unleashed a vicious kick, sending him staggering backwards, overbalanced, tripping as his heel caught on some debris, sending him tumbling to the floor as his axe clattered over the stone tiles.

  Korhan saw the beast swirl Brael’s blade high, then slam the pommel of it’s sword into Brael’s face, flooring him. The beast raised its sword, poised to pierce Brael’s heart, snarling angrily at him - Then harbinger whipped through the air at speed, in Korhans hands. The blow was precise and fast, effectively slicing the rodent’s head clean from its shoulders, leaving the rodentine head rolling across the floor and the hunched, mangy torso slumping forwards lifelessly, oozing blood.

  Brael pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Hmmph, that’s twice you’ve saved me Avil - I hope I can return the favour soon.”

  Votrex was now resting his axe on the throat of the second sleeper, who was spitting and snarling, baring fangs and almost screeching at Vashni. Korhan offered Brael a hand and tried to pull him up, but grunted in pain and dropped to one knee at the attempt, a sign of his earlier injuries not being fully healed. Brael instead climbed to his feet unaided and helped Korhan up.

  Saul at this point was sweating, his face a grimace of concentration. Brael nodded to him. “You’re doing well wizard, keep the spell going!”

  Votrex, his axe resting on the throat of the snarling, spitting Verkreath that still had a throat, looked up. “Does anyone know what this wretch is saying?”

  Brael shrugged. “Yes, I do. He is calling us cowards, fools and threatening us with the wrath of his god, his people - if you could call them that. Can you enter his mind Vashni?”

  She shuddered at the thought, it had seemed a useful proposition when she had suggested it, but now faced with this rabid creature, almost foaming at the mouth with anger - she was beginning to regret suggesting it. She gestured to Brael and allowed him to place his sword tip where hers was and she leaned closer to the Verkreath, whispering melodically, almost hypnotically. The raging and spitting died down, the foul smelling creature, began lying still. Votrex eyed her suspiciously. “Are you in?”

  “No, I have just subdued him with a whisper. His willpower is weak, and his anatomy is surprising similar to mammalian. I have just disabled his ability to move or talk. You may remove your blades, if I am to enter his mind I need to concentrate - please do not disturb me.”

  She kneeled next to the rat man whose breathing had grown shallow. Gently slowly, she extended her mind towards him, taking measures to protect her own mind at the same time. The Verkreath’s mind was surprisingly sophisticated for a savage rodent. It was sharp and raging, snapping at her mentally, screeching at her to keep out, in its own guttural tongue. She persisted though, gently stripping away its mental barriers and moving herself into the confines of its mind. It was difficult to gain any information or meaning at first, images flashing around her of this creature’s memories. The trouble was the meaning was lost to her, as the creature thought in its own language which was alien to Vashni.

  As the images flew around inside its mind she began picking images and forcefully holding them, and replaying them using the latent intent and feeling attached to them to discern the meaning. The Verkreath as it was had never felt so invaded. Its comrades dead, an elf kneeling beside it, stripping away it’s mental defences as if they weren’t there. On several occasions it would try to block her from venturing further into its mind, but her mind, ancient and powerful would simply rip it’s defences apart and probe deeper. Eventually she decided she had seen enough. The creature then felt its mind being altered, it was having a memory placed in it’s mind, an uncomfortable memory. A memory of being an elf, and being thrown into a pit full of human bodies, and then buried in the dead. The feelings Vashni had experienced during this event were passed over too. Feelings of revulsion, of hopelessness, of pity for the poor dead carcasses she lay amongst...

  Vashni withdrew and took a sharp inwards breath, then shuddered and nearly gagged. Korhan looked at her. “Well?”

  “I have learned much. The plague in Strak is no accident, the Verkreath engineered its spread. The plan was to break surface and take Strak. The same way they took Beren’Gedt Holt, first they hide in the shadows and unleash their vile disease upon the populace, using gutter rats which they have purposefully diseased. Then when a settlement is weakened from epidemic they storm it, taking prisoners to use as slaves or ‘living larder’. Beren’Gedt Holt was recently very full of Verkreath, all ready to storm Strak, but events in the underdeep have changed things. The majority of the Verkreath population of Beren’Gedt Holt headed south to support the attack on Durth Orza, an attack fuelled by the unrest. That’s all I can get. The Verkreath that remain are here essentially here as house keepers, they were waiting for the people of Strak to die off, they were more or less ready to attack, but the majority of the Verkreath population of Beren’Gedt Holt has headed to Durth Orza.”

  Korhan frowned, “What is ‘living larder’?”

  Brael unceremoniously drew his short sword across the giant rat’s throat, leaving it choking on its own blood and gasping for breath. He ran a second stroke, severing its spinal cord and silencing the beast forever. “Their prisoner.”

  All eyes turned to the makeshift prison cell that had been made out of the back room of the dwelling. Brael stepped forwards first, the gravian girls eyes opened wide at the sight of Brael approaching. The runelights in the dwelling were activated and his features could be seen clearly. She glared at him full of hatred and screeched. “Truthseeker!”

  Truth will out

  The companions had failed to break open the cell, and had to resort to rifling the pockets of the tattered, stinking garments of the apparent jailors. A key found, they had opened the cell and dragged the prisoner, or what was left of her out. It was apparent then, exactly what was meant by ‘living larder’. Rather than the usual complement of two legs and two arms, Elira, for that was her name, had no legs and only one shoulder and arm. The missing parts having been cut away, cooked, and eaten by the Verkreath. They had carried Elira forth from the cell and propped her upright against the wall, on a clean part of the straw. She looked ill, having been living on stagnant water, lichen, moss and cave fungus - all force-fed to her by her captors. Now Vashni had collected some cured meats, bread and fruit from their bags and given them to her. She sat, eating silently, and somewhat ravenously. The shock of seeing her, alive but so dismembered had almost knocked the companions off their feet. Now Votrex was standing away from her with Brael. Saul, having had to let his spell fade, was helping Vashni tend to her. Korhan sat back against the wall, resting in such a way he could peer beyond the dwarfskin curtain and see any enemies approaching.

  Votrex shuddered at the thought of what had happened to her. It was vile, had this fate befallen the dwarves who had lived in Beren’Gedt Holt until it’s fall? He looked at Brael. “Urgh! These foul creatures are disgusting! How could they do such a thing to a creature?”

  Brael shrugged. “I know not master dwarf, but I suppose it is not all that different than any of the sentient races, hunting or farming animals and eating them. Their strategy seems sensible in some respects,
the Verkreath are clearly fond of meat, probably biologically adapted to eat meat in fact, so they capture prey, feed them the things they either cannot, or don’t wish to eat then carve bits of their victims off to eat while keeping the victim alive. It saves any effort preserving or curing meat... They must be skilled surgeons and magicians to do what they do without their victims becoming infected or dying of blood loss. Vashni says she senses no infection in the wounds, to acheive this is not an easy task. Especially their latest meal - look at the stove. The meat, that was being turned over was her upper arm and shoulder.”

  Votrex felt like being sick he gagged slightly and had to look away. “Can you imagine how it must feel to have these monsters carve you up, then heal your wounds and force you to watch them cook and eat part of you?”

  “I can imagine the experience is traumatic, possibly so traumatic it can drive one mad. From what I gather she could return to health, but what sort of life could one expect as a lump of meat with a head and an arm?”

  “Could you not reattach her arm using Saul’s magic and Vashni’s whispering?”

  “Everything has its limits Votrex, the arm is cooked, infact it is rather over-done, almost burnt. If it had been cut off fresh, it may have just been possible. Even if it had been possible, what is left of her legs and lower arm is probably in that pile of gnawed bones in the corner. I wonder whether we have done the right thing and it may have been kinder to leave her.”

  “To these animals? You are mad gravian, nobody deserves that fate, tis only a shame we were not here earlier to rescue her when there was more of her left.”

  “Maybe so... We should question her.”

  So Votrex and Brael walked back to where Elira was slumped against the wall, frantically scoffing bread with her remaining hand. She looked up as they approached, and glared at Brael. “Get out of my sight Truthseeker or I shall have you flayed alive!”

  It seemed a ridiculous statement to make, she had an air of perceived authority and spoke as if she had the means to make good on her threat though clearly she didn’t. Seeing the hurt Brael turned away and retreated to sit with Korhan, keeping watch.

  Saul offered her a puzzled look. “Elira, why do you hate Brael so?”

  “Hah! It is his fault, HIS fault I am in this state, it is his fault I have been forced to watch my companions slowly carved up, cooked and eaten... Do you know what they do? They begin by removing a foot, they make a kind of stew out of it, then they remove the lower leg, they grill limb sections and eat them off the bone. Once they have consumed both legs they take a hand, there’s not much meat on the hand so they tend to make a soup out of it. Then they remove the lower arm, then the upper arm and shoulder. Once you are a limbless torso with simply a head, they cut the torso in half and eat the bottom part. The final insult is when there is nothing but an upper torso and head left - at that point they open the skull, and kill the victim by eating their brains raw while their victims are still conscious. Finally they roast the upper torso and eat that. My two companions have met their fate this way - and it is all Truthseeker’s fault!”

  The party were all holding back the urge to wretch, the description she was giving, and the implication that she had witnessed this happening to two of her companions, and the process had begun on her... It was surprising she had not been driven completely mad. Saul shook his head in shock. “How did they keep you alive?”

  “They look like filthy vermin, but they are skilled surgeons, masters of disease, both in creating and spreading it and they are able to use magic to prevent infections and control blood loss. I... I have been force-fed, lichen, moss, fungus, insects, all manner of foul things, simply to keep me alive and to try to put meat on my limbs.”

  She pointed to a metal funnel with a handle and a long tube, which was lying on the floor near the stove. “There! Many is the time that wretched ‘thing’ has been shoved down my throat, while they pour some form of nutrients in.”

  As she spoke she was forming a glazed look and shivering slightly, the horror of the trauma she’d been put through was catching up with her. She’d had a desperate desire to be rescued, to escape her miserable fate. Now that she had been rescued effectively, the realisation that she had been rescued somewhat too late, and the question of what kind of life she had in front of her as a torso with a head and a solitary arm was looming close. The gravity of her situation was not lost on the companions, who in awkward silence were secretly contemplating the vile treatment she’d undergone, and the grim future she faced.

  The silence was broken by a deep sigh from Elira. “Give me a blade, I wish to end my life.”

  Vashni looked at Korhan, Saul looked away, fighting back a feeling of nausea and sadness. Vashni leaned in to her. “If you wish, Elira, I can end your life gently, painlessly, with a whis-”

  “Stop!”

  Elira and Vashni looked up to see Brael who had stormed over. “You do NOT want to do that Elira.”

  “Hah! I may do as I please ‘Truthseeker’ I thank you for saving me from my fate, but I do not wish to end my days as a helpless lump of meat!”

  “You must tell me what happened after my banishment! What state is Durth Orza in? Did it repel the Verkreath attack?”

  “Repel the attack? Truthseeker, I had fled Durth Orza before the Verkreath invaded, but I can tell you they will not have repelled the attack. Factions and houses were warring, gravians fleeing their family homes, riots, looting, total anarchy - I hope you are pleased with yourself Brael Truthseeker for that is what you have achieved.”

  “That was never my intention, I was asked a question, when the answer I found did not fit, I investigated further, and further. I did not want the ‘truth’ to be what it is. I have found the revelation as disturbing, and devastating as everyone. It has taken me until now to come to terms with it, and even now - I struggle to consider how I should live my life in the light of this revelation.”

  Korhan was shaking his head in confusion. “Elira, what IS ‘the truth’?”

  She chuckled and looked at him as if he was a naive child, who had asked a silly question. “You don’t know? You really don’t know do you? I am surprised the great ‘Brael Truthseeker of House Krazic’ has not discovered a means of breaking his curse and telling you. I do not know if I should tell you, you would not believe me, as gravian society did not believe Brael, until he proved his findings unequivocally. Telling you may do you more harm than good!”

  Brael looked at her pleadingly. “Elira, will you unspeak my curse and release me from the magical bonds that have been placed upon me?”

  “Why? So you can destroy the Empire as you have destroyed Durth Orza and gravian society? Would you destroy the elves too I wonder?”

  “All of these peoples are under threat with or without the truth, Verkreath are gearing up to take the surface, their days in the shadows are numbered. A dragon cult with potent magics at its disposal is growing stronger, the Empire will fall anyway if I cannot help them, and I cannot help them while limited by my curse.”

  “If I unspeak your curse will you help me to end my life?”

  “I may be able to help you, if you will unspeak my curse and give me time, I may be able to restore you?”

  “Hah! I don’t believe you truthseeker, I can smell my shoulder and upper arm still cooking on a dwarvish stove, my legs have long since had the meat stripped off them and the bones gnawed and cast into a pile - there is not enough left of me to save.”

  “I cannot talk about it, the curse prevents me, but I believe it is possible, in time to restore you.”

  Brael seemed genuine, whether he was right or not, she couldn’t say - but he certainly appeared to believe he was right. She looked defeated, as if she was fighting back the tears. When Brael spoke again, his voice was slow and measured. “Elira, if what you say is true; we do not know how many gravians apart from us are left. I believe I can restore you - especially if I can get access to my arcane laboratory in Durth Orza-”

 
“Your arcane laboratory? Burned to the ground I am afraid, as it should have been before you revealed your accursed ‘truth’!”

  “No, it is not. The one which would have been burned to the ground was a front, a fake if you like. Everything there was duplicated, and there is more, much, much more in my main laboratory - which I have conjured into a pocket dimension, separate from this reality. I will never be able to access it, nor will anyone else - if my curse is not lifted.”

  “Good, it should stay that way, you have done enough damage Brael Truthseeker!”

  “I want to try to right things, I never intended for what befell Durth Orza to come to pass, I never expected it. I wrestled with revealing ‘the truth’ for a long time, but I had been asked the question, I had discovered the answer - I had no choice. I cannot hope to save the gravian race, or restore Durth Orza to its fomer glory with my curse in place.”

  “And what does that matter? What does anything matter given ‘the truth’? You made life meaningless, you destroyed morality.”

  “You are wrong, I cannot even explain why, as I cannot discuss the truth as it stands.”

  “Very true, as we’re all doomed anyway, perhaps I should simply remove one of your curses? Allow you to reveal ‘the truth’? After all, your curses were applied to prevent you doing any further damage, for the good of gravian society. As gravian society is no more, maybe I should unleash your ‘truth’ in the hope that the other civilized societies suffer the same fate? Maybe ‘the truth’ is a test of a society, maybe a society can be weighed and measured by its reaction to the truth.”

  “I will take that offer it is all you can offer, but I implore to release my magical shackles.”

  “Hah! You can do more damage with ‘the truth’ than you could ever do with your conjurations or arcane inventions - I might allow you to destroy the world if I give you access to ‘the truth’ what damage could you do with your formidable conjurations as well? You might break down the walls of reality itself and fold the universe in on itself. Show me your glyph and I shall unspeak your curse of silence, show me quickly before I change my mind.”