The Hunt Begins

"I'm warning you!" the human said, voice quivering as the creature approached.

The slow plodding of the creature hesitated but for a second as the human held up the sigil of N'Jal, a stylized spider. The being stood up to its full height, casting a shadow over the strewn ritual chamber. Candlelight flickered against the backdrop of black banners emblazoned with silver spiders as the human slowly backed away from the monster approaching it.

"Warning me what?" the monster asked as its tail flicked back and forth, a predator stalking its prey.

"You'll pray to the useless Spider Bitch and have her smite me? Do you think she would even if she could?" a guttural laugh burbled up through the cracked throat of the creature as it took another step further.

"I'm going to rob her of her remaining strength one follower at a time, until all of you are dead... and then I'll kill her with my own two hands. Do you think brandishing her sigil at me is going to do anything but piss me off?!"

A clawed hand shot out from beneath a rotted cloak and gripped the unholy symbol with a surprising amount of strength, considering the creature's skeletal appearance. The symbol of the Dark Thayne crackled in his grasp weakly before it snapped in twain and fell to the floor below.

A draft of wind from an open window caught the edge of the creature's hood and revealed a face, half decayed. Bright green orbs of magical light danced where eyes once were. Rows of dagger sharp teeth peeked out from dried, shredded lips curled into what seemed a permanent snarl.

"D... Drago?"

"None other. Now, you've kept me long enough. I'm hungry, and your life force is looking rather delicious at the moment," Drago said as he reached out with a single hand and held the man up by the head. As the human struggled and beat against his arms uselessly, the Dragolich could feel its own body begin to heal, particularly around his face.

The scars and deterioration reversed, slowly, giving his body some semblance of normality. The glowing green orbs where his eyes should have been remained, but otherwise he was starting to look like his fully living self once more. With a sigh, he dropped the human, now a husk of ashen skin pulled taught over a rigid skeleton.

"Now, where are the others?"

You think you're ready to take on that many at once?

"Despite your misgivings, Draconus, I do know these people. Of them, only a few pose me any significant threat, and those few will seek me out themselves. The rest? There's a reason they served under me," Drago said. He could almost see the divine in the back of his head cross his arms disapprovingly, but nothing else was said between the two for the time being.

The sickly-sweet smell of decay filled the room as a dim orange light bounced off the blocks of stone that made up the walls. Drago leaned against the wall with a scowl and tapped his clawed fingers impatiently against the stonework. The sound echoed through the room as he slowly picked up the pace before he finally slammed a closed fist against the wall with a sharp exhale.

"None of these were cultists. They were slaves," he said. His voice barely rose above a whisper, but bounced off the bare walls nonetheless.

Why do you care? the voice in his head asked.

"I could have gotten some information out of them about their masters if I'd gotten here before they died, that's all."

Makes sense.

"It's troubling. The Cult is covering its tracks, killing anyone they can't move with them. They know I'm coming, somehow."

That, or these slaves resisted or revolted.

"Unlikely. The Cult has several ways to induce compliance. They rarely kill entire groups of slaves except as sacrifices, and this wasn't a ritual murder. Even if this isn't about me, there's still something happening that's got the Cult on the run."

The dracolich pushed himself off the wall and knelt before the body of one of the largest slaves, a hulking brute of a man with sharp canines and icy blue eyes.

"Must have had some mountain giant in him," he said as he turned the behemoth over and rifled through his pockets. As he expected, they were empty. Whatever the man had been carrying on him had been taken by his murderers, if only to leave no evidence behind.

Well?

"Well what?" Drago stood and kicked the body sharply. It lifted from the ground only a couple of inches, but when it fell back to earth, a nearly inaudible sound of stone sliding against stone issued through the room for a fraction of a second.

Drago lifted the man up and dropped him unceremoniously onto the floor just a couple of feet away. As the corpse hit the floor, the section he had been lying on shifted slightly.

"Now ain't that something... looks like the lug head here was guarding a trap door."

The dracolich reached down with both hands and sunk his claws into the space between the false floor and the actual floor and lifted with all his might. With an audible groan and series of clicks the floor swung upward to reveal a staircase leading down into a basement area.

An escape route? A ritual chamber?

"Only one way to find out," Drago said as he grabbed a lantern from one of the recesses in the wall and made his way into the darkness below. The slapping sound of bare feet against stone step echoed down the corridor, but nary another sound made its way down the dimly lit hallway.

The smell of decay slowly dissipated as the lich made his way further down, until he came across a chamber. The chamber itself was formed in the shape of an octagon, with a door on each wall, like spokes on the wheel of a ship. The only question now was, which way to go?

A low hum reverberated through the cistern. It bounced off the torchlit walls as its intensity slowly increased. Drago looked around, but saw nothing as of yet. From one of the tunnels leading off the room, footfalls began to sound. The grew louder as whoever was approaching got closer.

Perhaps they are attempting to mask their steps with this strange sound? A shame illusions such as this only work on living tissue, eh? the omnipresent voice in his head quipped as the being slipped through the open archway, though no body was visible.

"Sonic vibrations to cover up the sound of approach and invisibility to conceal your presence from prying eyes," he muttered under his breath. In answer he felt a sharp edged blade dig into his back and cross his spine. Without even a thought he reached back with one arm and caught the blade in his palm. The blade dug in deep, drawing blood from the recently regenerated flesh. Unfortunately for his assailant, the dracolich no longer felt physical pain, and as such could hold onto that blade indefinitely.

"Reveal yourself, assassin."

"A shame. I swear I hit your spinal cord. You should be paralyzed," the invisible man said as he stepped forward from thin air.

"It's not that easy to paralyze someone whose body moves by magic and not biological functions," the larger creature said with chuckle. He dropped the sword and bared his claws at the stranger. The man staggered back a few steps as he looked at the dagger-like protrusions sticking out of his target's hands.

"So it's you. No wonder you weren't surprised by my attack, Black Paladin."

"I'll admit, your approach has improved. If I were still alive and relied on equilibrium to maintain my balance, you'd have had no trouble at all severing my head. As it is," the former paladin removed his hood and allowed his would-be killer to see the rotted flesh peeking out under his dull silver scales.

"You died in that tomb, didn't you?"

"Yes... but a terrible hatred filled me and awakened a dormant power in me. It took a decade, but I revived myself as an undead and learned to move my body under force of magic. Not that it should really matter to you, though. I just felt like bragging a bit." The lich sniffed the air and scratched his chin with a claw.

"You... never became a full Cult member, even after a decade, did you?" Drago asked.

"Would you believe me if I told you I was betrayed like you, only I managed to get away and find a new life?"

"It wouldn't surprise me. You always were better at sweet talking the common folk. Why attack me, then?"

"I thought you were an enforcer come to put me down. I killed everyone down here already, but I had a sneaking suspicion that there might be another..."

"Not that I'm aware. I haven't sensed any of N'Jal's soul rotting power since I killed that priest up on the ground floor. It's likely anyone who was left up there fled... or was down here when you attacked."

Drago turned away from the assassin and began his trek back toward the stairs he had descended.

"Whatever the case, if there are none left down here, I must seek out whoever else is left in this region. I suppose I should thank you, Gerald. You saved me some time here."