El-Vador's Travels (37 page)

'Will
you aid me?' he managed to ask the voice, slowly rising from the
water and tentatively touching his side with a wince.

A
chuckle was the response. 'You would not be standing if I was not
already aiding you. Go forth and unleash that which you crave upon
these vermin, and then onward to a greater challenge.'

El-Vador
didn't ask what the voice meant by a greater challenge, the
tightening in his head was receding in a manner that indicated a
cessation of communication with the being inside of him. It would be
futile to force the issue as it simply wouldn't listen to him,
instead he had to trust that the fading pain was indication that he
had also been imbued with enough power to deal with these pests.

He
strode forth without any pretence at stealth, his sword loose but
ready in his eager grasp and a new sense of vitality coursing through
his limbs. The voice would not lie about his efforts not being
monitored by any Orcish guard and his targets already knew exactly
where he was. There was a tightening of anticipation in his chest at
the potential gift that had been bestowed upon him that he tried to
fight down without any luck.

As
he passed the corpses he heard the familiar scurrying sound once
more, and in spite of the previous encounter he felt no trepidation
at the noise. A familiar confidence had him in its grip, an eagerness
for the creatures to show their faces once more and dare attempt to
charge him.

It
was instinctive as the first one came bounding toward him, time
seemed to slow and instead of bringing his blade to guard in a
defensive position he felt the impulse to stick his arm forth and
hold it in the air.

Undeterred
by its victim's change in tactics, the rat led its kin as it charged
directly at El-Vador, some of them aiming for the legs and others
attempting to leap for the midriff.

A
pulsing blackness jetted out from his fingertips, slapping the first
of the rats aside effortlessly and killing it instantly. Its dead
weight landed with a considerable splash in the waters and the Elf
shivered, somehow invigorated by the death as the new energy coursed
through him.

They
couldn't get close to him, the inky substance continued to seep out
and strike down any further attacks, each inevitable death sending a
pulse of energy back into the Elf's body until he felt his pale skin
would burst open at the influx of power.

The
final body fell with a splash and it ceased, leaving him with a
yearning that outstripped any of his baser cravings and necessities.

The
water churned over the soggy lifeless corpses of the dispatched
vermin, heedless to the dark power that had been unleashed mere
moments ago.

Its
progenitor strode onward purposefully, his mind clear and focused in
spite of the ecstasy that trilled through him.

Eventually
the small underground stream joined a larger tributary from other
unknown parts, he followed this to its conclusion, what looked to be
a large lake roofed by a huge cave-like dome.

A
bubbling sound issued from the centre of the watery mass, something
was in there and it wasn't happy at the intrusion that the Elf
presented.

It
was in that brief moment of clarity that El-Vador realised the
greater challenge that the voice had spoken of before.

A
position of required mercy is one I hope to never benefit from. To
place myself in such debt sickens me and I will not offer quarry to
those who submit themselves to it.

E
l-Vador
skirted the lake with a growing caution and mistrust at its strangely
bubbling centre which had yet to issue anything threatening. He had
been watching it patiently for a number of minutes now and while the
sense of menace wasn't in doubt, there seemed no further retribution
for his intrusion. The cave seemed without any noticeable exit that
his newly-enhanced sight could detect, all except for a small grate
that the sheer and impenetrable walls sloped up toward. A grate that
hung directly above the pool of bubbling water that he had been so
keen to avoid.

The
air was thick with a vile odour that seemed to issue forth from the
waters, assaulting his nostrils and making him raise a hand
ineffectively to cover them.

Save
for the vermin that his powers had dispatched he had not encountered
any resistance, as the voice had implied. The positioning of the
grating above the pool of water seemed indication enough as to why
there was little need for defence of this area. The Elf still thought
that a number of men with grappling hooks and the skills to climb
could infiltrate this place at will. It must be something about the
pool that prevented such efforts, rendering all attempts at snaking
up to the grate useless. With a sinking feeling he realised that in
order to breach the Orcish burrow he would need to find out what.

Part
of him wanted to track back and follow the other tributary to see if
it led to an alternate entrance, but something warned him against
such a course of action. He had no idea how long his new sight would
last and couldn't be left floundering about in the darkness in an
unfamiliar place should it fail him. He had to press on and find a
way up to that grate.

He
studied the ceiling of the chamber he was in, hoping to catch sight
of a series of handholds that could aid him in scaling his way to the
grating, none seemed apparent. A growing feeling that he was running
out of options had begun gnawing at him. He had no rope or hooks to
scale such a surface and there seemed no other way to proceed, yet
surely the voice could not have led him to a dead end after all this?

As
if in answer to his question, the bubbling from the pool intensified,
he heard a wet, sucking noise, and an unnatural squeal sent a chill
down his spine. He readied his sword just in time to make out a form
of nightmarish horror rising from the centre of the lake.

It
was huge; its heaving, slime-coated bulk rising from the bubbling
waters with a series of tentacles propelling it upward. Its maw
opened wide to reveal a serrated beak as it splashed toward the edge
of the lake directly where El-Vador stood.

Instinctively
he moved back, trying to stay out of its reach. He considered
readying his bow but the speed of the creature's advance dispelled
that idea. It was repugnant and nightmarish in form: a lumpy,
spherical-shaped body sporting a dozen or so of the long tentacles,
each one glistening and bright on top but covered with darker, spongy
suckers on its underside. Without warning, one of the tentacles
lashed out like a whip. El-Vador avoided its sweep by leaping upward
and clear, hoping that another one had not shot out to pinion him.

Gathering
his feet from the roll, he crouched motionless in the chamber but for
an instant before springing back to evade other tentacles arcing
toward him through the air. He was not as fortunate this time, their
reach had been extended by the creature's increasing proximity and
writhing out after him they coiled tightly, seizing his leg and waist
like a vice to crush him and draw him closer simultaneously.

As
the creature dragged him toward it, El-Vador was given further
opportunity to see the freakish monstrosity holding him in its deadly
grip. Clumps of bulbous flesh, in various sickly hues of green,
bulged from its mottled hide, covering wrinkled, pebbly,
pinkish-white skin. In addition to these pustules, growths of green
weeds and hardened barnacles were attached to its skin, looking like
noxious boils. The creature’s mouth extended further now, wide
enough to swallow him whole and emanating a strange gurgling of
pleasure.

The
tentacle around El-Vador’s waist flexed, abruptly squeezing him
with crushing force. The constriction shoved the breath out of his
lungs, and spongy suckers on the tentacle’s underside slurped
at his skin like hundreds of greedy, round leeches. The circulation
in his left leg was fading quickly as the tentacle continued to
clench with increasing pressure. He chopped viciously at the tentacle
encircling his waist with his sword, and on the fourth time of
asking, the blade bit deep, nearly shearing through. Howling, the
beast withdrew the injured member and yanked unexpectedly at
El-Vador’s leg.

Pulled
off balance, he went down once more, striking the back of his head
solidly on the hard stone floor, the impact causing his sword to be
jarred from his grasp.

Realising
that he had been disarmed, the creature began dragging him toward its
gaping mouth again. With his enhanced sight he was able to see the
pulsing sides of the creature's inner mouth, working in expectation
of some ghastly digestion to come.

Bracing
himself against the wall with his free leg, he tried futilely to
prevent the beast from dragging him further toward its slavering
orifice. He groped on the floor for finger holds, but his hands found
no purchase to prevent the inevitable descent into the creature's
innards.

El-Vador
grasped for his sword but it lay beyond his reach, this left only one
option remaining.

Fighting
down a rising panic he closed his eyes and focused on the source of
power gathered within him.

The
beast seemed to vanish as he forced his senses to concentrate upon
the energies within, instinctively he clamped one palm over the back
of his other hand and raised his arms as if aiming.

His
eyes opened, and the ghost of a smile spread over his face, he could
feel the energies coursing through him, chomping at the bit as if he
held the reigns of a thousand wild horses. The monstrosity before him
no longer held any fear, its visage had been transformed in his
power-riddled mind from a potential threat to a potential source of
advancement.

He
sent a blackened tongue out in the shape of a tentacle from his
palms, straight at the offending limb that presented the only
remaining danger to his form. It shot out and slapped against the
appendage like a striking snake, clamping itself upon the
slime-coated limb and greedily sucking forth the life that pulsed
inside.

The
creature gave a shriek that nearly split the Elf's fragile eardrums,
leaving a ringing sound and causing his power to momentarily wane.
Instead of retreating from the onslaught it chose to attack, slapping
a vicious tentacle out at the Elf, this time with the intention to
crush and kill rather than draw him into its gaping mouth.

El-Vador
was wary of the beast's striking speed now though, and a blackened
tongue of power licked out to slap away the offending limb with a
resounding crack followed by a gurgling howl as the energies latched
upon it once more.

Realising
that it was outmatched, the monster attempted to retreat into the
safety of the waters but El-Vador, now the aggressor, was having none
of it. He pressed his advantage and closed the distance between
himself and his injured quarry, the life force of the creature ebbing
now and its tentacles no longer showing aggression toward him.

With
a final pulse and a groan, the creature keeled over to its side and
was still. The tongues of dark energy flickered at the corpse and
then retreated back into the Elf's hands, all that was left was the
stillness of the huge cavern over the now placid lake.

His
head ached with an agonising throb as the swirling forces within him
searched for an outlet that no longer existed, as they subsided they
were replaced by the mirthful laughter of a familiar deep voice.

'Good,
good.' it said, somehow managing to infer a smirk in its tone. 'Your
first taste of being bathed in true power rather than the simple
drips of energy you have been teased with. Tell me, my pawn, how did
it feel?'

El-Vador
looked down at his now plain hands and discovered that they were
shaking in the ecstasy of the moment. 'It felt... good.'

Another
round of laughter. 'You have a talent for understatement, I know that
you now crave more and in order to enact your vengeance upon this
race you must accrue more accordingly.'

A
feeling of intense rightness swept over him at those words, the voice
was right. The idea of storming an Orcish burrow had seemed
childishly naïve before, but as the power pulsed through him he
felt invincible, as if he could take an entire army and leech it of
its life if necessary. Yes, he would need this strength to subjugate
and drive the Orcish people to extinction.

Then
a throbbing in his head unlike any he felt before caused him to shut
his eyes tightly, he could feel the energies slipping away from him
now that they had no outlet.

'You
are not a perfected vessel yet, but do not despair at the parting of
this power, for there will always be a reserve left within you from
this encounter.'

He
could feel it then, deep inside of him like some roiling heat just
beneath his veins and seeping into his core. There was something
left, an indescribable force that lingered and with it came an
itching desire to bring it forth into the open.

His
vision blurred, darkness encroaching upon his sight as if someone had
poured liquid night onto the edges of his corneas.

'Your
constant burning of the power to maintain your vision has taken its
toll, your body must rest now.' the deep voice informed him and then
departed.

Staggering
over to where his sword lay, he placed his fingers upon the grip and
slowly lowered himself into a cross-legged position with its blade
over his lap. Consciousness receded from him and for a time all was
blackness.

He
woke to the sound of a scream, a gibbering pleading coming from the
grate above as it was slowly opened and sent streams of light into
the cavern below. His vision reacted to it and slowly the cavern
became visible once more, though he could feel the drain on his
energies was more notable that before.