Once Bitten, Twice Shy [Slime]

[Trident]

Timestamp: 1st Winter 511 A.V.
Location: Somewhere on the Falyndar Coastline

The waves pounded the beach side with a ferocity like no other, as if even Laviku sought to erase the wretched cavern that existed only several stone-throws away from his sea. Winter had little effect on the Southern Suvan shoreline, which always seemed to exist in a happy tranquility and a tropical atmosphere. Not today, however. In that silent place, it was chilly and dank, as though some malevolent force was approaching. Or, as if some malevolent force had already taken up residence.

The entrance to the cavern was small, easily missed by mortal eyes. It was not even on the ground proper, the entrance instead half-submerged beneath the waves. As it existed in a place where the ground above rose in a rocky cliff, it was nearly unnoticeable from feet treading above. It had been missed by the gaze of any and all Myrians passing by until this point, and many of the Dhani that lived in the jungle were none the wiser of this location as well. It seemed almost ironic, then, that it would be neither of them that would make the discovery of the location.

Going inside, any would-be explorers would have to swim through a sunken antechamber to find a tunnel leading even further within on the far side. If they continued onward, the cavern floor would rise subtly until it was completely dry, the water that had flooded the vestibule now absent. With it, however, the light from inside would disappear as well; the rest of the cave was pitch-dark.

Some distance inside the cave, a form stirred. It was long and fat in its roils, smooth scales moving in tandem as the reptile rose. It had been resting on the forms of many like it, all asleep as she. But now, the great female was no longer asleep. An ominous feeling sat in the pit of its stomach, a bestial feeling of a predator approaching. Slitted eyes now open, the snake began to move, to watch for the outsider that would disturb her den of snakes.

[Slime]

How long had he been running now? Several weeks at least. Slime was sure that he was only buying time now and every night in his sleep he could hear them getting closer. He'd heard stories of a place like this and the more he thought about it, the more familiar it all seemed. The sailors and crewman talked about dense jungles filled with bronze-skinned warriors and snake-man. Snake-men. Slime didn't believe that one but the one about the warriors had to be true. He'd met and killed one. Killed two. His mind told him. The Boy and the Girl. You really think she survived with a head injury like that? That's true. The girl probably died in the jungle before reaching anyone. Slime felt a guilty pleasure at the thought. There wasn't anyone following him. To think so was probably ridiculous. All this running, all this hiding for weeks and weeks was pointless. Slime, sitting on a small rock atop a rocky cliff, relaxed a little. The jungle behind him shuffled with movement. He could hear movement and speaking in a strange language. The same language the Girl had been using. A roar behind him. He turned and saw them, exactly what he feared. Several bronze skinned warriors, tattooed more heavily than the girl had been stood there. Not just stood there, some sat upon massive beasts; striped, powerful and full of drooling teeth. They weilded whips and swords and spears and bows, all manners of portable harm. "Give up now." Said the most heavily tattoed warrior. "We have an altar ready. Receive an honourable death by coming with us or a coward's death by resisting." This must have been the feeling that had been creeping up on Slime for the last few days, this must be why the ocean seemed especially restless and the sky seemed dark. This was Dira coming. This was Death falling over Slime's world before the final strike. These were the last moments of freedom before the final prison. Slime enjoyed his freedom though. It was why he'd ran so fast and so hard, why he hid so completely and so well. This wasn't just about fear, this was about freedom. He felt weak but he wouldn't just give in. He backed himself against the cliff's edge and looked down. Below the sea churned but looked infinitely more accepting than the warriors facing him. He cast himself off, spear in hand. It was not the first time. He crashed hard into the gray water below. Suddenly he body was not his own. The waves and currents took him as he desperately tried to hold his breath. The sea pounded his body and washed him into a small cove. He had just enough time to gasp a breath before the undertow took him again and plunged him into the dark and unknown. He felt himself hurtling through what he felt was tunnel before the ride mercifully and slowly came to a halt. He coughed bad and came up from a shallow pool. His lunged burned hotter than fame and yet he felt cold, so cold. He coughed again and threw up water. No light, no evidence of where he was. Did I go blind? He wondered. He waved his hand in fornt of his face and could just barely see the movement of his skin. But it was movement. So he wasn't blind but then where the hell was he? He stood up and walked slowly out of the pool. He ht a wall and followed it. His feet left the water and he was standing on cold stone. The air smelled incredibly musty and almost thick, like inhaling molasses. He needed some light. He stayed against the rough wall and didn't want to move any further than he already had without it.

OOCWinter 1st is the timestamp. I never thought my "Throwing Yourself Overboard" Lore would be useful. So far, I've used it to escape two bad situations. Nice. Trident, if I need to change anything I will.

[Trident]

There was a snarl and the whoosh of a spear as the it flew towards Slime as threw himself over the rocky cliff. But the spear missed by mere inches, and the ones that followed failed to reach him by even greater distances. He had survived the Myrians' for now, but how long would it last? The voices of savage men and women raised in guttural curses haunted Slime as he fell down, down, down...

And then he landed amid hard, gray water, and everything went silent.

Had it all been his imagination? As soon as Slime returned to the waters of his people all commotion and shouts above has been silenced. There was not a single sound besides that of the relentless waves. Had the warriors been but a figment of his half-crazed mind, shades of his hunger and despair?

But there was no time to consider this. The tide was strong and fierce, and it carried Slime away. He was weak from both the fall and the days upon days of eking it out in the jungle. He could put up no resistance as the merciless sea made to crash him against the rocks, fiercely, proudly. But Tanroa smiled on him, and somehow or other his body found purchase inside a small opening within the crags. The waves that had seemed to want to destroy him now seemed usher him into the opening like a servant welcoming an esteemed guest into their master's home. Before he knew it, Slime had been washed up into a half-submerged cave.

Once the young Svefra had recovered from everything that had happened and begin to walk forward by using his hand against the rough wall, he would encounter something strange. It was nothing that leaped out from the darkness at him, no sudden chamber he found himself stumbling into; rather, it was something that crashed against his fingers as he made his way forth. It was an odd irregularity of stone, set into the wall. Inspecting it by either hand or failing eyesight would reveal it as a strange, archaic rune.

What could it mean? But the origins of the marking were completely mysterious. It almost seemed to glow with a soft light, as though the insides of it were burning. Illuminated by the very weak light above it, however, were several words in Common that Slime could read -

Woe be to the hatchling without light,
Evil things do dwell in caverns dark!
Yellow eyes will not guide you here,
One must swallow ones own tail and forsake all chance for natural guidance.
Only a single sacred word can emblazon the snake's path,
By the name of his youth's broken cradle.

A riddle then, one that spoke of speaking a word to light his path. Perhaps the symbol held some way of lighting this cavern by magic? But then...the word. What could this magic word be? Something to do with snakes and how they were born...

[Slime]

OOCGah! Sorry about the delay, Trident! Laptop busted and became unusable. But I'm back and possibly even more mediocre than before!

Slime drew his hands across the rough-hewn letters. He thanked every God and Goddess he knew that it was in Common and hoped that they stayed with him through this journey. He also hoped it was a journey and that he didn't just end up in a dead-end cavern that he'd have no way of escaping from. Starving to death, forced to start drinking salt water until he became delirious and dead. That would, as the crewmen used to say, suck harder than a ten-piece whore. Maybe the letters had some clue though. He could barely see them in this light, or rather, the total absence of light but it wasn't as though he was complaining. He coughed hard and read the rune slowly. Truth be told, the riddle seemed a little over Slime's head. It seemed ominous though and if there's one thing living on a ship instills in you, it's a healthy dose of superstition. He would tread carefully on the Snake's path, whatever that was. The Captain had released some snakes on the ship once to see if they could deal with the rat problem better than Slime. They were talented catchers and Slime respected them for that, as much as he could respect an animal, but always had a wary distrust for the blank, shifting eyes. Still, he didn't now much about snakes. He could make some guesses though. Hatchling in the riddle probably referred to him, obviously. Evil things do dwell in caverns dark means that... Slime looked into the dark around him, shuddered and read on. Yellow eyes will not guide you here. Some snakes have yellow eyes and he guessed that they could eat their own tails if they wanted to. Maybe it was deeply metaphorical but such musings weren't really in Slime, he could understand them but he couldn't really investigate them. Sacred word. Broken cradle. He pondered and thought and looked closer to the rune. He also noticed that three of the letters were cut deeper into the rock, causing them to stand out much more than the others. E, G and G. "Egg." He mumbled.

[Trident]

Even when Slime looked out into the darkness, there was no sound or movement, which might have made the tunnel even more creepy for it. All that could be heard was the crashing of the waves outside.

When Slime spoke, however, everything changed. The quietly glowing rune above the etched script suddenly burst into bright, unconcealed light. The blaze would reduce Slime's ill-adjusted eyesight to pure whiteness, blinding him. When his eyes finally adjusted to the abrupt change of lighting, Slime would realize that it had not been one light blinding one - it had been several.

All along the darkened passage, torches set into the wall had burst into sudden and unexpected light, illuminating the tunnel. It illuminated a danger Slime had not been able to see in the dark; spikes, half-rusted yet sharply bladed, were placed strategically on the walls between the torches, one existing only a handbreadth away from his current position. Another step forward, and Slime would have been skewered by it. It was only by the light in the wall that he would be able to move forward and avoid the spikes at the same time.

Clearly this was a passageway shaped by mortal hands, carved into the forbidding rock face of the cliff for some purpose or other. But why? Maybe a chamber dwelt within? If a chamber existed, however, it could not be seen; a small distance away the tunnel split into two directions, one tapering off to the left, one to the right. Ancient and cracked wood doors covered the face of both passages. They were identical, except for one detail. On the door to the right, the picture of a two snakes fighting had been drawn; on the other, a solitary python lay in wait among the grass.

Slime now had a choice in front of him. Which door should he take? The left or the right? Or should he turn back and face the Myrians that may or may not be waiting for him out there?