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“Take the next right up ahead, there’s a small waterfall that obscures a passageway to the surface,” An’kachat said to Angharad as she approached a fork in the tunnel system.
“Thanks.”
The group followed closely behind, sidling along the dark cave walls. The rushing of water entered Ifan’s awareness as they came closer to the fork.
“How much longer until we reach the surface, Ank?” asked Ifan.
“Not much. We’ll be approaching a disused Inarellian quarry soon. Our people rarely use it, so we should be able to escape without –”
The sound of wet skin slapping against the damp cave floor echoed from the path to the left. An’kachat seized up and placed a webbed hand on Angharad’s. She shuddered in response but slowed up and looked back to their scaley guide. Lifting his other hand to his lips An’kachat made clear to the group they needed to be quiet.
Ifan listened closely as the echoing grew louder. Placing his fingers around the hilt of his sword, he bit his lower lip in anticipation. The others each primed their own weapons, and An’kachat slipped to the side, allowing the back line to approach the front.
A number of clicks and chitters sounded off down the passageway, and An’kachat’s ears perked up. “Hunger. They’re hungry,” whispered the sahuagin.
“Let’s not end up their next meal. Your people, they’re cannibals, right?” asked Ifan.
“We are known to partake in humanoid flesh, yes. When needs must. We try not to make a habit of it. Most other humanoids are gamey at best, you’ll find.”
The flames from their torches continued flickering lightly, betraying their position within the tunnels. Angharad made a quick hand gesture, indicating her proposed plan of action. Two fingers flew up and pointed towards the left passageway. Sliding the tips along her neck, her intentions were made clear. The others nodded in agreement and on her count, charged into the tunnel.
Hunched over another sahuagin body, three of the amphibious creatures feasted upon a fourth of their kind. An’kachat covered his mouth and pushed back a burgeoning feeling of nausea. The first of the party’s attacks connected; Angharad’s spear ran the sahuagin with their back to the group through, impaling it with its sudden impact. The others leapt back, wiping the gore from their lips.
Ifan and Gustov stepped ahead of Angharad as she prised the tip of her weapon free of its victim, engaging the remaining two. Daggers emerged from behind the sahuagins’ backs, and their quick glistened in the dim torchlight. Ifan’s sword clashed with the left’s blade, and Gustov shouldered the right, smashing it up against the cave’s wall. Ifan exchanged a number of blows, and the sahuagin proved a suitable opponent, parrying his attacks and threatening their own, adept with the small blade. The eyes of the feral monster glowed an unnatural yellow, and its muscles twitched with ferocious vigour as it pressed up into Ifan’s defence.
Gustov’s quarry shook off the attack, sliding along the damp cave floor and slipping between the brute’s legs. Its dagger struck out and caught the goliath’s calf, eliciting a roar of pain. Gustov’s other leg stomped down and caught the sahuagin’s forearm, crushing the bone with ease. The creature writhed in agony and released a cacophony of angered vocalisations before falling silent. Rhian’s bolt flew from her crossbow, and the twang of its string reverberated throughout the cave, the missile striking true in the floored sahuagin’s skull. Deftly drawing a new bolt into the crossbow’s chamber and loading it ready to strike at Ifan’s opponent, she caught Gustov’s disappointed demeanour as he realised what had befallen his prey. She smiled, before trying to train her sights on the final defender.
Ifan swung out at the sahuagin and its dagger flew up to parry the blow. Through a smirk, his plan came to fruition. Exploiting a gap in the creature’s defences, Ifan struck the foe with his torch, searing the scales on its body and releasing a fetid stench into the cave air. Its dagger came loose as it chortled in pain, the metal clattering to the ground. The steel of Ifan’s blade bored its way into the amphibian’s shoulder, and a swift kick sent it flying into the wall behind it. Readying a finishing blow, a bolt whizzed past his ear, striking the creature between the eyes. The dark blood sprayed Ifan’s face, blinding him with the viscous fluid.
Wiping his eyes clear, Ifan glanced back to the red headed sharpshooter and grinned with a blood-soaked maw. Rhian winced at the sight, before her cheeks flushed red.
“Great job, Rhi. Plus two to your count.” Angharad clasped her friend’s shoulder, jolting her out of her infatuation.
“Just doing my job.”
“And a bloody good one at that,” responded Ifan.
“You’ve got a bit of,” Rhian gestured to her own face. Shaking her head, she approached Ifan with her sleeve in hand. With a wipe, the blood came away from his skin, but his bloody grin remained. “Your teeth too. Sorry about that.”
“Ugh, thanks for letting me know. And it’s not a problem. Comes with the territory.” His hand and tongue came together to clear as much of the gore as possible from his mouth, and following a forced grin to the rest of the group, Ifan was assured he had gotten the worst of it.
“Little prince, can you see to my leg? The slippery devil caught me off-guard.”
“No problem, big guy.” Ifan saw to the wound, using a curative prayer to seal it shut and alleviate Gustov’s pain.
“Hmmm. How is it that you can still use magic, prince?” An’kachat emerged from the shadows, joining the group, and inspecting his tribe’s dead.
“It works a bit differently to most. The divine breath. It’s a blessing my family have had for generations. Our God, Telric, took a liking to my great-great-great-great grandmother, her highness Goewin Ferch Mathonwy. It’s been passed down ever since. Our blessing is a direct link to Telric, and he uses our lifeforce to grant us power. So we don’t require atmospheric arcanum to cast our magic when communicating with him, or so the scholars say.”
“T’chirri, Moen’kap, and Kher’khan. May their souls find their way to the great sea.” An’kachat closed the eye lids of his people, a pang of guilt striking his heart as he laid them alongside each other.
“That must have been a great boon for your family. I can see why you held the throne for so long.”
“In large part, yes. Come on, let’s keep going. Angharad, you and Ank take the lead.”
