Shifting Sands of Fate
Part one: Undesirable Discovery
The two pairs of feet trudged on through the harsh noon suns. They plunged deep into scalding hot sand, only to be yanked out within an instance. The two dragged on into the heated heart of nowhere, though. No sane being, human or beast, would try to accomplish this trek through the Kav'Na desert. Thing was, these two were not sane. They were mercenaries, and desperate ones at that. The two hadn't said a word for over an hour now, that is, until the elf with a skull tatooed on his face miscalculated a step.
"Ack! Dammi-"
Before he could even finish swearing, his mouth had filled to roof with sand. For a moment the tired elf just lay there, letting his back take the sun's abuses. Then, the hand of his Icthyian comrade grasped on to the back of his vest and yanked him up to his knees. "I don't want to have to keep doing that." Was all that came out of his aquatic ally's mouth. Skullga merely shrugged at Sar-Hect. Normally the Icthyian was more verbal, but both had little words, lest they exhaust the remaining moisture in their mouths on petty arguements- which was what they had been doing for the most of the journey.
Skullga got to his feet and muttered a few curses as they stumbled on ankle-deep in the sand. As the endless walking continued, the elf halted and began fumbling through all his belts. Going through his cantines, his face drooped more and more with hoplessness. Skullga had broken all the definitive terms as an elf, most shockingly of all was his impulsiveness and thing for alchohol. "Aw, come on! No water OR beer?! God! How much worse can things get!?!"
Sar-Hect's pulse quickened at the statement. Things were going to get worse for him now. The same question that he had answered many times earlier was inbound. He gazed on with two of his three eyes (He kept his aquatic third eye on the forehead closed tight to keep it from shriveling up- it was extra sensitive to dehydration)as Skullga suddenly caught glimpse of the transparent collar around his neck, filled with pure water.
"...Can I have some of that?" Skullga pried wearily at him. Sar-Hect groaned. "How many times must I tell, Skull? No! I need this life support-system!" Skullga moaned like a begging 6 year-old to his mother. "Come on! pleeeassse?? Just a few drops, man! Just a few! " Sar-Hect threw his arms out in frustration. "Look at me, Skullga! I NEED this!" It was true. Sar-Hect usually had sleek, teal-hued skin with the moistness of a frog- but the desert had taken it's toll on him. His skin was now a withered, worn dark blue with the moisture of leather. His third eye was slammed shut, and his fins were as dry as papyrus. His usually vibrant red eyes were a pale pink, and he was obviously cranky.
"I'm all shriveled up, man! This place lacks any moisture, and this collar is the only thing keeping my insides from looking like my outsides! I am NOT a Sauroten!" Again, he was right. Icthyians were a amphibious race that hated dry climates, and that gill-collar was the only thing keeping him from being fish-jerky.
And he was certainly not a Sauroten, either. The Sauroten were the nomadic, hulking warrior-based reptiles that had employed them here. Unlike both Skullga and Sar-Hect, the Sauroten thrived in dry climates loved these, and they lived for wealth. Like the mythical dwarves, Sauroten desired wealth and battle above all else- they took great pride in crafting their weapons, and loved nothing more then assaulting intruders foolish enough to try and colonize their desert.
So the two just walked onward into nothing, with no sense of direction. Well, at the least the two had finally been employed- it had been forever since they had been given any jobs because of their buisness rivals, the Dark-Dread mercenary team . Racism was more prevelant then ever, and a all-human mercenary team was bound to get more attention then a group of cultural misfits- especially since the Imperium of Man came along.
The sun had begun to tilt to the east, signifying that they had been walking along for at least another two hours. Skullga licked his lips, trying to soften the brittle folds of flesh upon his mouth. "...You know, Sar-Hect... We really should have drained those camels of their blood when they died... At least then we could have had SOMETHING to drink." He heard the Icthyian wretch behind him, and a mischevious grin spread across his face. "That's foul! What do I look like, a vampire?!" Sar-Hect sputtered out. "We already used their bones as crappy firewood, their fat as oil... their hides for trading... and their flesh as jerky! But I wouldn't drink another creatures blood for a Mystic Gel Gem!"
Skullga laughed at the last bit. "Ha! I would have probably, I mean, it doesn't compare to a lager or anything, but still. I would have most certianly have done it for a Gel Gem! Hell, one probably could have gotten us out of this mess!"
He heard Sar-Hect grumble in submissive agreement behind him. Then his stomach. Remembering the jerky that he had brought up earlier, Skullga fumbled about through his pouches until he conjured up a peice of camel-jerky and munched away at it. He shrugged. " I don't think that merchant would be too happy about this- but hey, they croaked. We were just making as much use out of the corpse as possible".
Besides the usual wandering about in the middle of a desert problem, Skullga had been dissapointed that the immense heat hadn't gone and melted that damned tatoo off his face. As long as that tatoo marked his entire face, he was cursed to share his body with Skullgakuen, a demon from which he was named after by the witch who had slapped the thing on his face in the first place.
The two halted as something gleamed over the horizon. "Well?" Sar-Hect frowned. "It's not like we know what it is." Skullga sighed. "Dude, at least it's something....Well, hopefully not a mirage, but y'know." Both simply nodded and took off which much more bounce in their step, hooting and cheering at the sight of some kind of object- hopefully the lost temple they were asked to locate.
Within ten fast minutes, the duo stood at the stairways of a massive temple. They had no idea how, but appearently some ancient Sauroten architects had gotten a hold of marble, because the whole bloody roof was made of worn marble. The smooth dome top was in design that of some sort of coiled serpent. At least, that's what they guessed. They didn't know much about the Saurotens other then their characteristics.
The rim of the structure was laced with all sorts of images depicting life of the Sauroten's that were presumed to have built it. "So... You think this is the one that Chieftain Makruz said the missing expedition group vanished in? " Sar-Hect sarcastically rubbed his chin. "Hmm... Well judging by the fact that it's the only thing for miles...DUH." They scrambled excitedly up the stairs to the rim.
After approaching, though, the mood of a fresh discovery died down. Why? Closed doors. Skullga and Sar-Hect stood before the monolithic doors. Skullga merely stared at the two depictions of Sauroten with their arms stretched out in a pushing position. Immeidiately, Skullga threw himself at the doors, pushing as hard as he could. "Nnrrrggh... Y'know, if it's a not a "push" door, then maybe they should have at least made those little buggers on the door be doing something different!" He lept back and eyed the doors all over, looking for some sort of handle. Meanwhile, Sar-Hect stood behind, watching and observing. He took a less direct approach and began circling the walls, looking over the hylogriphics.
After a few long minutes, Skullga staggered backwards, panting rapidly. "Okay...So they're not opening. Makruz could've told us that bit. Or given us a bomb or something... Sar-Hect?" During his attempts to open the doors, Skullga had not noticed Sar-Hect go around to the other side of the structure, looking over it's carvings. "...Sar, I doubt there's a back door."
The trait of impulsiveness clicked within Skullga's mind. More likely, it was the demon Skullgakuen. *the demon from which he had been named after his memory-loss* trying to take advantage of his frustration. "Dammit! Skullga junior, not now! I can handle this by myself!" ..." ...So why the hell aren't the doors open?! By the way, YOU'RE the junior here!" Skullga, being a unusually proud and impulsive elf, drew his longsword to prove that he could get that door open. "Watch this then, demon!" He slammed the butt of his sword on the doors. Nothing happened.
Meanwhile, Sar-Hect had almost finished his circle around when he noticed some of the images were a bit more... poorly done? It was as if a two year old had taken to the wall with a sword! "Looks like someone was in a bit of a hurry to meet the deadline." He muttered as he approached the drawings. Most of them had been the run-of-the-mill depictions of the Saurotens worshipping their warlord god, ambushing Imperium of Man caravans, and hunting Sand Leviathens. However, these were different... and far more disturbing.
The first showed a group of Sauroten hunters presumably exploring this very temple. Nothing wrong there.
Skullga bashed the doors with his hilt again. The doors budged a little, if only by a milimeter or so. Frustrated, he began to hit it harder.
Sar-Hect looked over the next. Things started getting weird. It showed the three hunters kneeling over the body of a woman, probably dead.
Skullga began cussing back at the demon who continued to goad him. Now, the doors had sprung a few cracks in them. Skullga grinned. "I'm getting there! Let see you claim to be the better door basher now!"
Sar-Hect stopped dead in his tracks upon the next hastily carved picture. This time, it showed only two of the Sauroten, fighting a horrific creature. At first glimpse of what could be made out, the creature looked like something that should belong in the ocean... A long craning neck, a equally long tail and flippers. But the front flippers looked like mole claws, all sorts of writing seemed to be on it's skin. Worst of all, though- it had a Soul Stone in it's forehead!
Sar-Hect glanced over his shoulder and looked at the gleaming green jewel gazing out of the tip of his halberd. That wasn't possible. Soul Stones only come into existence when a expeirienced fighter dies. They take on the form of a stone and are placed in the hilt of a weapon that fate chooses. That's the only way it has ever been. There was no way in heaven or hell that a creature man or beast, could co-exist with a Soul Stone, being one in body but two in soul! The laws of nature would have to have been defied to do that... Meaning that whatever creature that lives with a Soul Stone is not only a abomination of existence, but now also a creature under the influence of something evil enough to break the laws of life! Merely a puppet for something of terrible evil!
Finally, it showed one sole surviving Sauroten closing what appeared to be a door behind him...Sar-Hect's eyes widened. It all came together. "s**t." - he had turned to run, but froze at the sound of a constant WHAM! coming from the other side of the temple. Quickly, Sar-Hect turned to face a jutting hylogriphic and pushed a finger down on it. The image crumbled into dust. "Double s**t." - the marble must have been old beyond reckoning. It was breakable, and very likely to crumble at any damage. Sar-Hect turned and bolted around the edge.
Sar-Hect came out from the corner waving his arms. "Skull, don't! It's not a temple! It's a pris-" Skullga smashed the door one last time with his hilt. With a satisfying grin, he turned to face Sar-Hect. "Got it!" Sar-Hect froze in place. Skullga shrugged. "What?"
Crackle
Skullga also froze. Cracks began to crawl out of the recesses of the stone doors. They spread. With a shudder, the doors snapped and fell down, hitting the floor of the structure with a ear-shattering boom that could be compaired to a bomb. Skullga looked down. More cracks and gashes scrambled out from under the doors and spread about the floor beneath them. Skullga looked back up at Sar-Hect. "...Y'think it's a multiple-story temple?" The grimace stuck on Sar-Hect's face writhed out words. "You...are such an... IDIO-
In a uproar of marble and waves of sand, the floor shattered beneath them. With the sound of crumbling and screams of alarm, the two were cast into darkness...
End of Part One
So, what do you think? Screw any grammar policeage, though- you try spending another three hours trying to replicate a story that got swallowed up by shitty luck.
