Lord Zee
CyclonePerilous Woods
Walking was slow, excruciatingly slow. There always seemed to be a branch in the way, or a rock to stub a toe on, and whenever the weather was perfect for a hike, Diana seemed to shrink away and decide it was time to stop. Weather aside, even something as simple as it being just past noon with plenty of sunlight for a safe walk seemed to force her under the sanctuary of a shady tree, especially those with uncomfortable bulbous roots that seemed to snake in the worst places. Even now, with Heliopolis high in the sky, Diana sat under the shadow of a dying oak, her umbrella hiding every bit above her waist.
”I need a spear,” Karamir suddenly muttered, standing under an oak adjacent to Diana’s. He had chosen to neither sit nor lean against it, knowing that she would likely find a way to cause him discomfort - if it was even her who was causing it. Perhaps all the trees in this area were uncomfortable.
“Oh?” Diana said from behind her umbrella, Karamir could just hear her smile, “Whatever for?”
”I’m in an unknown land with at least one species of hostile creature. And I’ve been blessed to be good at using spears or other similar weapons. Why wouldn’t I need one?” Karamir countered.
“Oh foo,” He heard her cackle softly, “You’re in no danger, besides a little stick wouldn’t help you much of any. Don’t be so silly, now.” She pulled the umbrella away so their eyes could meet, a smile hidden in the depths of her sore looking gaze, “Perhaps you should consider a more respectable occupation.”
”Such as?” Karamir raised an eyebrow.
“Hmm,” Diana tapped her chin as she thought out loud. She eventually shrugged her hand back down to her lap and shook her head, “Well you certainly ask enough questions to be a philosopher, but you’re not too bright -- so that’s not a good path for you.”
Karamir’s expression did not change, nor did he respond. Aside from an annoyed sound within his head that vaguely resembled a sigh, there was no sign he had even heard her. A nagging hum seemed to itch his ear and finally Diana asked, “What’s on your mind?” As if she didn’t already know.
”I just told you. I need a weapon,” he answered.
“Oh that’s no fun,” Diana seemed disappointed, “I mean to say, what’s really on your mind? You escaped your birthplace with a certain vigor as ignorant as it may be and devised an insurmountable plan. To your luck you ran into me, and now we are simply walking in --and I mean this quite literally-- a really large circle. As much fun as I am having, I can’t imagine you didn’t think of some sort of next step?” She cackled to herself, “Oh who am I kidding, surely not.”
”I need to learn more about the world if I am to think of a next step. I wasn’t taught anything beyond how to survive.”
“Well I’m hurt!” Diana’s smile betrayed her words, “You didn’t even bother to ask me, after all I’ve done for you?”
”There would be no way to prove what you’re saying, and you seem to enjoy making my life difficult,” Karamir shrugged.
“And yet here you are,” She winked, “Still here.”
He sighed. ”If you’re just going to lead me around in circles, why should I stay?”
“Why should you?” She stared at him.
He shrugged, said nothing, then frowned and wrinkled his nose. ”Are you creating that stench?” he asked her.
“Well I never!” Diana slanted her brow.
Heavy, deliberate steps rustled through the undergrowth nearby, accompanied by a periodic wet clicking sound. The putrescent wafts Karamir had felt grew heavy, then oppressive, then nearly intolerable as a large shadow flitted in and out of sight between the trees. Finally, a young, slim-trunked growth gave way under a forceful push, and a mass of metal, rust and layers of clotted grime thundered into their sight.
“Found ya!” the horror’s abnormally large mouth spluttered, black tentacle of a tongue flicking back and forth with a nauseous whipping noise. Folds of grey skin briefly gathered to cover its forest of teeth, and something small and sharp whistled straight past Karamir’s ear, embedding itself into the bark by Diana’s head with an audible snap. “Warm, alive, not rotting, nothing special. I’ll save you for later.” The tongue shifted to point at the former, then the latter. “But you. I taste the cold and bitter from here. The godly, too. Can’t wait to find out why it’s that the closer, the better.” Malodorous spittle flew through the air as the monstrous jaws snapped together with anticipation.
“Oh my!” Diana perked up, “Why aren't you just delightful!” She shoved her billowy umbrella into the smacking maw, “Just don't forget to mind your manners.”
”What are you?” Karamir asked, having taken a step back. He looked around for something that might be used as a weapon, but there was nothing.
The creature’s mouth strained, and with a crack its teeth closed through the umbrella’s haft. It chewed over the pieces with some more crunching and tearing, lightly pushing the decapitated part still in Diana’s hand away from its face before loudly swallowing. “So eager? I’d rather fight it out first, but if you really can’t resist...” The jaws twisted into a stomach-twisting imitation of a smug sneer.
Thunk!
A fresh umbrella swatted the beasts ‘nose area’ and Diana stood up with a curling smiling, “Now now, this sort of talk is most unbecoming.”
“That’s more like it.” The tongue darted out to point at Karamir again. “I’m Vrog, if you really need to know. Not that it’ll matter much, that or what’s becoming. See, I’m here to eat you.”
Karamir composed himself. ”No you’re not,” he stated flatly.
“Oh how primitive,’ Diana's face melted into boredom, “An overgrown shrew.” She tapped her chin in thought, “Perhaps…” She mumbled to herself, pulling her umbrella open and flicking it over herself as she pondered.
“I’m sure I know what I’m doing better that you,” Vrog retorted, “Anyway, that’s enough talk. I haven’t had a real meal since I started walking. In you go!” His mouth opened, as wide as it could, then wider, and wider still.
“Hup!” Diana suddenly retracted her umbrella and tossed a fruit from her palm into the wide mouth, a devilish smile on her face as she tapped Vrog's chin with her umbrella, edging it to close, “There you are deary, a proper meal you'll find. Next time just ask.”
“Very funny,” somehow, despite the mouth only continuing to open, the words came out with perfect clarity, “Ever told you I hate fruit? Now I just got to chase it.” A dozen black tongues burst out of the now impossibly wide jaws, lashing to grasp her from all sides, before convulsing and curling on themselves. “Bghlah! Sweet!”
“Tut tut,” Diana stepped away from the tendrils, “There is no need to lie.” She put her knuckles on her sides, “Saying you don't like fruit and then showing such affinity for the taste, really you are a terrible liar.”
Vrog’s teeth gnashed and ground together in irritation as something groaned ominously from inside his stomach. “Alright, you’ve had your joke. Now knock it off.” Without warning, the massive brute became a blur of dim metal, his hand shooting forward with impossible speed to reach for Diana’s throat and, it seemed from the vigour of the motion, the tree behind it.
His hand dug into the tree, Diana having tilted off to the side in some divine reflex. She frowned, “Oh, I see. Can't even say ‘please’ can we?” She shook her head, “Let's all just slow down and try this again, shall we?”
As if it had been there the entire time she suddenly held up a metal triangle and a tiny rod, her umbrella in the crook of her arm. She gave the instrument a tiny tap and the rod made a musical clang. Vrog’s claw, emerging from the shattered bark to grasp at her again, stiffened, twitched its fingers, then fell lazily to his side. His snarl broke into a creaking yawn, opening a hellscape of gnarled yellow fangs and unmentionable slimy residue for the world to see.
“You really don’t want to try it in here?” he droned in a heavy voice with a poor imitation of friendliness. Another yawn, and the leaves on the closest branch wilted from the stench. “Come on. You’re going to like it.”
Diana made a face and inspected one of her nails, nibbling on its jagged edge, “I like rain, splinters--” she paused as she discreetly spit a shard of nail from her mouth, “and lice. While I admit the latter could be present about you, I have no idea of what you're talking about much less on.”
“Easiest way to find out is to get in,” a corner of his mouth twisted upwards as though he were winking a nonexistent eye. “I’m sure I’ve got some splinters there,” he drowsily tapped his protruding belly, “Specially after that stick of yours, and rain - it’s of a kind you only have to feel once.”
Karamir, in truth, had little idea what was happening. Over the course of the exchange he had been slowly backing away to a safer distance; deliberately moving slowly to avoid drawing attention to himself. He had expected a fight, and while that had yet to happen, he suspected it might change at any moment. Should he send a prayer? Would Kalmar even make it in time? He doubted it.
“You've had your say, now I'll have mine: you're boring,” Diana gave a curt nod, “You're mind is in your stomach and your fun is somewhere I can't find. I admit while intriguing at first glance, I have grown tired of you.”
She wiggled her nose and suddenly little plops of rain began to fall. She held out her hand, “Well would you look at that? The weather is turning. Karamir, dear, I believe that's our cue to get back to it as the working man would say.”
Karamir wasn’t sure what she meant by ‘working man’, but he nodded regardless. ”Let’s go, then,” he said, turning a wary gaze toward the reeking monstrocity.
“Ah,” Diana turned real quick to face Vrog, “Forgive my manners, a parting gift.” Her smile returned and she flicked her wrist. Nothing seemed to happen and she uncomfortably dug her nails into Karamor's shoulder, ushering him forward like a child. As the two began their first steps the air began to sparkle between the pair and the pile of metal and maw. Suddenly a swirling rift seemed to cut the velvet of reality and without much warning a torrent of swarming pods exploded outwards and directly into the unsuspecting maw. They were quite tasteless if not somehow exactly what Vrog didn't want, and each fleshpod left him slightly hungrier. Little eyes seemed to stare at him in horror as the pressure forced them to their wet grave.
The monster’s mouth, which had just been opening into a “Not so fa-”, found itself clogged with the infuriatingly bland flood. He tried to chew and swallow, then just swallow, then even shut his jaws - a reaction that made him pause in horror as he realised what he was doing - but the steam of wretched things did not leave a single opening.
“The spit’s this?! What the- glurgll-” his curses, all lethargy swept away from his voice, were cut short in a choking gurgling. He snapped his maw close and open, time and again, all semblance of instinct have gone haywire. With a mighty shove, he stood up in all his height, towering over the pair, and clawed into the encroaching fleshy storm, swatting enough aside for a moment of reprieve. “The gut have you done? Eating’s no fun!” The clear contradiction in his words made his panic almost audible. And from panic came anger.
A muffled roar came from the swarm of reluctant bodies that had taken the place of Vrog’s head, and he lunged forward, recklessly plowing through the living hail. That was, perhaps, a mistake. Instead of parting before his charge, the flow seemed to intensify. From the inarticulate garglings in its midst, the maw could not resist its urges. What was visible of the creature’s body began to swell beyond its already bloated proportions, inflating like a drowned corpse - no, more than one, more than skin could have held, more that should have held -
Blam!
A wave of eye-stinging foulness swept for yards across, followed by a thick, rancid yellow mist. The flailing noises had fallen still.
”What just happened?” Karamir asked, bewildered by what he had just seen.
Diana seemed to cackle as she floated just above the viscous mess, “He’s just enjoying his gift.”
The pestilential fog stirred, thinning at the edges of the cloud, and a large shadow broke through the vapours. Smooth bladed armour glistened in the sparse spots not caked with filth, scattered, yet larger and more numerous than before. The asymmetries were still there, but most were so subdued one could barely notice a handful at first glance. Perhaps it was that the only slight remaining hunch left fewer incongruities for the eye to settle on; perhaps the fact that the figure was slimmer made them less glaring, if not less abundant. Those that did remain plain, though, had only aggravated, and drew the eye with the pull of morbidity. It was impossible not to stare at those lopsided shoulders, those disproportionately long fingers on one hand, those etched crinkles on a flank that seemed to perfectly follow the contours of gangrenous pustules underneath. The thicker, flatter bands of the lowered visor concealed the spot where the maw had been from sight.
“Alright, you’ve made your point.” Vrog’s voice, at least, had not changed much, aside from being laden with weariness and annoyance. He nodded forward in a short fit of wet coughs, bringing a fist before his helmet despite its faceguard obviating the need for the gesture. Up close, he was clearly shorter than earlier. “Spit, never thought it’s possible to eat too much. First who mentions food gets ripped to handkerchiefs.” He jabbed a hook-tipped finger at Diana. “You can just not bother, I’ve got a special treatment for you anyway.”
“Well, I dare say this is awkward,” Diana's jagged nail prodded Karamir again, “You see I've already said my goodbyes.” She slowly tugged out her orb from its secret bed and placed it before her eyes, “And look! There goes my attention.” Her voice flourished the point and she began to walk away, other hand clamped around Karamir's shoulder. Karamir followed, casting another uncertain glance back at the beast.
“I said-” the pointing finger darted forward. It only then became clear how freakishly long the arm behind it was. “-not so fast!” The recurve claw angled to catch Diana by her collar. “You got some nerve. Blow me up, and you think you can just walk it off?”
His finger hooked and a numbing shiver ran up his arm. Diana snapped around in surprise, but it was too late. A blooming emptiness seemed to shock through Vrog, as if he had sipped at the well of misery itself. Images flashed in his head, memories. A feather haired man stared at him in all but a fraction of a second, and he felt dreadful pangs of anxiety. His fingers went fuzzy, giving him a deep desire to cut them off and throw them away, as if they had somehow betrayed him. A second ticked, it was all gone.
Diana slapped his hand off her collar, causing her to drop her orb into the mud below and for her face to turn to a sickly blush of fury, “How dare you?”
For an instant, Vrog remained still, his fingers slowly flexing as though pursuing an unusual feeling and his head leaning from side to side on its stump of a neck. But that was soon over, and in a step he was looming close over her. The warm, putrid breath would have turned any weaker stomach inside out at that distance.
“How?” A chortling damp cackle came from somewhere much too deep inside the armour. He raised a hand to his head, deliberately, though hastily, sweeping the jagged claws inches from Diana’s face. “Guess I just do.” He tried to push up his visor, but it resisted as though stuck to something beneath it. A stronger tug, and it came loose with a sickening tearing sound.
If Vrog’s features, or lack thereof, had been ungainly before, what had become of them now was nothing short of nightmarish. His grin was contorted almost beyond recognition. Tattered sheets of skin were draped halfway over it, letting loose drops of murky ichor with each quiver. Around it, what had been merely grey and uneven was a shapeless mass of torn grey flesh, pulsing and oozing from a myriad of sores and diseased gashes. Teeth that did not belong to anything haphazardly jutted out from it, while a third jaw seemed to be sprouting from the side, stretching the living wasteland around itself in its vain attempts to snap closed on something.
The mouth cracked open, tearing apart some of its lip, which had merged into a single stretch in places, and a familiar tongue, bar some teeth that had grown along it in odd places, slithered out. It prodded towards her as the monster leaned forward, almost following the contours of her face from a minimally safe distance, before he snapped back up. “And looks I was right to. You smell-” the tongue clicked with sheer sensory pleasure, “-right wonderful when you’re angry.”
At this point Karamir was more impatient than afraid. The beast would not leave them alone. Of course it would be stupid to say anything, since in no way would he be able to fend off the beast’s assault as easily as Diana could, but at this point the creature was just wasting their time. He grit his teeth and looked to Diana, hoping that she would in some way be able to move this along.
Diana peeked over at Karamir and then back at the monstrosity, “I'm sure you'll find that pretty faces and flattering words have little room in conversations that have dragged on for far too long.” She suddenly gave a smile, one a little too similar to another, “So perhaps a little bit of a deal, then?”
The twisted maw scrunched together in surprise, but soon widened to mirror her grin with its own loathsome sneer. “I like deals. The kind that works out, anyway.” He brought up a questioningly gesturing claw. “What’s the hook?”
“You bring one substantial or even minuscule modem of value to this drawn out interaction and I'll give you the speck of attention you seem to desire; otherwise, I think it might be best we part ways,” Diana hissed through an unbreaking smile.
“Attention? The gut I’d do with that? Tell you what,” a lip of molten skin flowed upwards to perplexedly bare the root of a row of slanted fangs, “You said your deal, and I’ll give you mine. You got something I want, I got something you need.” Vrog’s stunted left hand pointed at the woods around them. “Your trail’s a circle you’ve been making loops over long as I tracked it, which tells me you don’t know spit about where you’re going. Me, I know the good places around here. You follow, and I’ll show you things you didn’t dream of.”
There was a fit of cackles from Diana and just as it was ending, she erupted into more. A single tear formed in her right eye as she laughed and finally she leaned forward, propping her hands on her knees for support. Her cackle began to die as she swiped her orb from the mud and stood up straight. She brushed it off and shook her head, “You've had your say--” She interrupted herself with a cackle and cleared her throat, “And now I'll have mine: I am dreams themselves, and I know exactly where I am going.” She waved her fingers at him, “Shall I say goodbye, now?”
Vrog clicked his teeth together and ponderously shrugged, an incongruous sight with his slanted frame. “Suit yourself. Least I’ll be getting my appetite back.” He spat a chewed seed husk from the corner of his mouth. A large metallic flask was suddenly in his hand, though one could have sworn he had held it before now and again. “I’d offer a drink, but I feel you’re in a rush.” He curtly gestured towards Karamir with the container. “Just tell me this. What’s with the ugly slave you got?”
Karamir glared at the mass of filthy metal. ”I am nobody’s slave,” he retorted. ”I was created by Kalmar, God of the Hunt, and my purpose is my own.”
“Huff huff huff,” Diana tapped a finger off of Karamir's head. She looked back at Vrog, “A drink you say? Perhaps you know where a lake of sulfur might be?”
A patch of flesh on Vrog’s simulacrum of a face tore open, revealing a gap lined with teeth where a solid surface had been moments before. The nascent jaws mouthed “you don’t sa-” in Karamir’s direction, before the monster slapped them shut. When he withdrew his claw, no trace was left of the mouth. “I do,” he grinned at Diana, yellowish filaments dripping from between his teeth as a stench of rotten eggs wafted from him, “But I’m sure you do even better, if you’ve dreamed it.”
“Tsk tsk,” Diana shook her head, “And just as you had me, you lost me once again.” She gave him a consoling smile, “Maybe next time then?”
With one hand still on the orb, she hooked the other around Karamir's arm. Chills rippled down his spine and his stomach feel uneasy. Diana began to escort him away from the scene once again, “Perhaps next time.” She echoed as she forced Karamir into a very uncomfortable walking pattern that seemed to speed up when he slowed and slow when he tried to catch up.
“Perhaps.” The voice was eerily close behind them, despite Vrog not having bulged from his crouch. “Watch out for the boss, he’s in a killing mood lately. You don’t want to miss the war down south, though. Just saying.” The words were followed by the creak of an iron lid coming open and a loud gulping of what seemed to be too many throats.
”What boss? What war?” Karamir asked, turning back around. Diana's grip tightened.
“Karamir, dear,” She scolded with a smile, “The conversations already over, mind your manners.”
The foot of the great tree behind them was empty, with nothing beyond sparse claw marks in the wood to show that anything had been there. The gulping intermittently sounded from behind the trunk, then far to the left, then from somewhere ahead of them altogether, before fading in the distance.
“Hmm hmm,” Diana put her hands on her hips, “See?”
”Fine then,” Karamir said. ”Let’s go. Will we actually be heading somewhere this time?”
“Unfortunately,” Diana huffed, “That bloke downright stole the fun out of our little game.”
”A war to the south, and that creature’s… ‘boss’... wants to kill things,” Karamir observed. ”Maybe we should find a different land.”
“Mm… killing is a little too final, this is true,” Diana pondered, “Let's make our way west and see what comes up. I'm sure we can find many delightful things to do on the way.”
”Let’s go, then.” Karamir sighed.
