The Third Mortal Trial of Cvina

“The fucking line is still fucked!” Ashe yelled from the bow, jabbing at the thick rope that held the Nawyet fast to the jetty. The stern anchor line was the same where Captain Amaruq stood, Hannah trying and failing to either cut the rope where it was looped around the bollard or move it at all - whatever the thaumaturge had done to the line affected the whole length.

The dragonkin were 200 paces away, their heavy jogging stride making them look more lumbering than Amaruq knew them to be. They were not exactly fast, but they could run for hours and lift up a man in full plate with each hand with barely any effort.

“Get the lines off, smash the bollard if you can!” Hannah yelled down towards Ashe. Two of the lizardkin on deck were actually still upright, but both were badly wounded if not dying and neither was as much of a current danger then the coming storm. Shirisha strode over to one wounded attacker, his arms and legs covered in deep slashes from Lisa’s cutting greatsword. It gave a hissing series of clicks and burbles, presumably a challenge or rejection of what was to come.

Shirisha lifted both hands high, the vicious trench knife in her right hand slicked with lizardkin blood, the triangular blade of the dague in the left looking more like a tool used to kill livestock than a weapon of war. Whatever the fading lizardkin intended to do with the horizontal slash it unleashed was mooted by the mountain warrior simply pirouetting out of the way, her left-hand arcing around to punch a hole in the beast’s neck.

As Fatima and Alexandra finished off the other the captain joined Hannah at the stern anchoring line. The thick rope used to tie the boat directly to the jetty was fastened to a bollard, a chunk of metal the line wrapped around in a sideways figure eight that was bolted firmly to the railing near the deck. The whole length of rope was affected by whatever magical working the thaumaturge on shore was using, but the rope did not have quite as much unnatural stiffness where it connected to the bollard.

Hannah pulled out a sharp knife and crouched at the bollard. She was able to make some progress sawing at it in the cramped space under the railing, but Amaruq could tell it wouldn’t be fast enough. The dragonkin were closer now, less than a minute away.

At the bow, Ashe had been joined by Hyvin and a few others but they had made no more progress. Lisa had dropped her sword and shield and was pulling on the line, her whole body vibrating but unable to either pull the line up more than an inch.

The mage. Captain Amaruq was about to yell out a command when she saw Hitty step to the port railing and smoothly pull and release her bow, sending a shaft right at the lizardkin standing next to its hiding spot.

It was a decent distance but the arrow seemed well sent… until it was a few paces away when it was knocked away as if by a gust of wind and missed the target by several feet. Hitty drew and loosed again, this arrow being sent off track to the other side. The thaumaturge clearly had a defense of some kind against attacks.

Amaruq thought quickly - anyone getting off the ship to get at the magic user would run directly into the charging giants. Unless.

“Shirisha, over and around!” the captain ordered, looking at the pitiless mountain clanswoman. Without so much as a nod she sheathed her blades and walked over to the starboard rail, simply falling off the side into the river without pause.

Grunting with effort, Hannah said, “Maybe we can burn it?” as she tugged and tried to jab her blade into the hemp or the rope.

“Cap’n, I’ll cast off from the rock!” Ipellie said, about to jump over the railing onto the jetty.

“Belay that!” Amaruq ordered both of them, “No time!” She suspected strongly that the rope where it coiled around the stone columns would be no different, and the dragonkin were almost at the jetty.

“How do we kill them?” Macha had a tremor in her voice as she stared at the oncoming creatures. One was scaled in brown with dull yellow spots, and Amaruq guessed it was over 7 feet tall. For years people had wondered if the dragonkin were a different species of lizardkin, but most now agreed that if a lizardkin lived long enough it simply continued to grow. They had sharper features and were massively built, their faces becoming more reminiscent of a lizard than the broad frog-like faces of the lizardkin juveniles.

The brown and yellow dragon had some kind of metal armor plating around its neck, probably one of the few spots it felt ****. The dragonkin a step behind it was the largest the captain had ever seen so close, at least 8 feet tall with dark grey and tan scales. It wore an old metal helm that had been bent and hammered into a shape to fit the long skull and carried a huge two-handed claymore in one thick claw like it was a cutlass.

As it reached the stone of the jetty an arrow lashed out. Whatever prevented Hitty from striking at the thaumaturge did not protect the dragonkin, and her aim was true.

The crew let out an involuntary groan of dismay as the arrow hit the yellow spotted beast flush in the mid section and simply bounced away. It had raised one arm to protect its face but otherwise had not reacted to the sight of the woman aiming at it. Hitty’s second attempt hit it in the arm and the shaft snapped as the arrowhead could not penetrate the dragonkin’s thick scales.

“They are tougher, and strong as oxen, but not so fast,” Amaruq yelled to the crew. “We have a chance but stay back and be patient!”

Even as she said it, she felt her attempt at confidence slipping. The two creatures were mere yards away, their wary eyes roaming the Nawyet for signs of threat. You didn’t live long enough to become a dragonkin by being stupid.

Hyvin gestured to the younger crew to group up near the bow, saying, “They will try to split us up and take us out over time, watch each other’s backs and don’t be stupid! They want some of us alive if they can, all dead if not!”

There was a dreadful silence as the dragonkin paused at the hull. A burst of lizardkin speak, high and reedy, then cut off by a sudden crunch. One of the wounded lizardkin still on the jetty had apparently been found wanting.

The Nawyet moved, tipping noticeably to the port as two huge creatures grabbed on to the hull and pulled themselves up. One cautious look above the rail from the helmeted attacker, ducking down as Hitty fired and missed. The larger dark grey one pulled itself over the rail, making the wood creak under its weight. As it straightened up, the brown and yellow one climbed on, not even seeming to notice when Hannah darted forward to slash at its back without any apparent effect.

Both dragonkin surveyed the scene, the whole crew armed and ready and all the earlier attackers dead or dying. One wounded lizardkin crawled towards the railing but the larger dragonkin gave a snuffling sound and pressed a huge taloned foot on the wounded lizard’s back, pressing down slowly until the bones cracked and the lizardkin went still.

While the larger beast was looking toward the knot of young sailors near the mainmast Lisa attacked from its left side. Her shield was held up as she wheeled her hand-and-half sword in a long overhead arc, her face set in a grimace.

The dragonkin had clearly been anticipating such a move, and it quickly brought its left arm up. The woman’s greatsword bit into a thick ridge of scales that grew along its forearms, but only just, and her eyes went wide at the minimal effect her heavy blow had. The huge claymore it brought around caught Lisa flush on her blocking shield, which burst into pieces as the **** of the blow continued on to crunch into her platemail chestpiece. The armor saved her life, barely, but the sheer weight of the attack picked her off her feet and sent her crashing back.

“Szz’tch kl’ssek!” it hissed as Lisa crumpled to the deck, dazed, her left arm hanging limp and breath coming in short gasps. The beast gave a low rumble noise, looking around, and the crew realized it was mocking a human laugh. “Ha ho hasss!”

Hitty’s arrow hit it in the side of the neck, leaving a thin line as it barely scored the beasts hide, but it stopped laughing. With a snarl, it held the blocking left arm up to protect its face and made ready to advance on the knot of Kuniq.

The other dragonkin was slowly moving towards Alexandra and Fatima, perhaps recognizing their armor and marine training as a threat. Hyvin was edging around to its back but before she could the brown and yellow attacker spun around faster than expected and lunged at the second mate, who was only just able to turn the clawed swipe away. Blood began dripping from her arm as she realized she hadn’t quite gotten out of the way in time.

Amaruq knew the battle was going to turn, and badly, if they didn’t win now. The dragonkin could keep herding the crew around for as long as it took to tire them out, and none of the weapons they had could deliver a truly dangerous blow to the thick scales of their opponents.

The only thing was to jab your blade through an eyeball or into their mouths and wriggle it around. Of course, anyone who got that close was surely going to die along with the dragonkin, but it was either that or they all die.

“Hannah, I’ll get the big one, you may need to swarm the other and accept the loses,” Amaruq said, judging the distance as the two beasts moved closer together halfway to the stern. A short sprint and a jump, and if she could avoid the claymore she could aim her hanger sword for its mouth and pray to the moon.

A dozen sailors moved around them, unable to attack but unable to simply flee either. They could jump off the boat and then what, be chased around the tundra for as many days as it took for them to be caught up? “We aren’t all continuing this run I’m afraid. But you get as many out of this as you can.”

“With respect Cap’n, fuck no. We’re taking that big fucker together and then we’ll get the other. No bloody chance I’m going to let you get out of all this cleanup now!”

Amaruq gave a bitter laugh. “Well, whoever is left, take care of the girls and get them home.” The two dragonkin had moved close enough to talk in low, cautious tones together. They had moved amidships, between the mainmast and the cabins.

The bigger one was looking around, and Amaruq could tell that that it had taken the measure of the opposition it faced. Had judged the weapons and numbers aboard the Nawyet and not found anything to worry it - now they would press their advantage and attack with purpose. If any of the crew was to have a chance, they either had to get incredibly lucky or simply sacrifice their greater numbers to get in real damage and hope there were humans left to sail the boat when the bleeding stopped.

Amaruq was so focused on timing her rush of the larger dragonkin she didn’t realize what was happening until, of course, Hitty cried out in alarm.

“Noah! No!”

Startled, Amaruq looked past the dragonkin to see the steward standing at the top of the steps leading to the cabins. The larger dragonkin turned to face him, before looking away again.

Noah stood all but naked, a thin piece of silk underclothes all he had. His trim, pale body fairly shone in the morning sun, and his hair was as messy as could be imagined for a man who had just crawled out of his bunk. His face was set in a small frown, looking around at the dead lizardkin. He looked alarmed at Lisa on the deck, but seemed to relax slightly as Yutu ran up to pull her out of the way, dragging the injured veteran by her dented breastplate.

The dragonkin were looking at the crew again, and the captain knew that the leader recognized her as the captain. It stared at her, waiting to see if she gave any orders, daring her to rush in, when Noah spoke.

“Tchun!” His voice was rough, and he cleared his throat, one hand on his neck. His expression was thoughtful, as if he was lost in a book, not standing on a blood-soaked deck in the midst of a battle.

Both dragonkin paused, the smaller one looking back at him. The steward stood up straight, and then spread his arms wide, lifted his chin, and took a deep breath.

“Mmentchs, ‘iuvenalibus’! Tchun… uluss? Tchun ulu! Ulu chelch! Hchiss!” Noah looked angry, the harsh words coming out seeming to require his mouth to contort in a painful way.

The larger dragonkin gave a long rumbling hiss, even as the other growled. Both now focused on Noah, only 15 feet away from them, closer than the rest of the crew in fact.

Hitty was edging towards the starboard rail, as if to run around the dragonkin and get Noah away to the dubious safety of the cabin. But Noah only had eyes for the dragonkin, and he stared at them, his lip curled in disgust.

With his right arm he pointed at the smaller dragonkin and said, “Kl’ssek.” His arm moved as he pointed at the leader and he harshly repeated, “Kl’ssek!”

With matching roars of rage, the dragonkin rushed Noah. Hitty screamed, and Amaruq was in motion, chasing after the dragonkin as they ran towards the naked, helpless man with no idea what she would do when she caught them.

But the steward took two steps to his right, his face fixed in concentration. The movement meant the lead dragonkin was now slightly farther away, and as they both started to stretch out to grab at him Noah ducked and dove towards them, his right hand grabbing the ankle of the closer dragonkin even as it started to reach down to claw at his exposed back.

Hitty was the closest, so she saw how Noah’s left hand reached out and brushed against the second dragonkin’s foot as it brought the greatsword down to cleave the man in half.

As soon as he touched the second creature they vanished, both dragonkin and the steward gone as if they had never been there.

For a second, then two, Hitty felt her mind go blank in disbelief. They had all been there, Noah was about to get killed by the biggest dragonkin she had ever even heard of, and then… they just disappeared. Nothing was there but a sudden bit of breeze at her back.

The rest of the crew was yelling in confusion, so only Hitty saw that, just as suddenly, Noah was now laying on the deck, right where he had been, rolling slowly onto his back. Captain Amaruq ran up and almost tripped over him, her eyes wide. He hadn’t been there, then he was, and even though he was laying on his stomach he still had looked like he was falling somehow for a split second when she first saw him.

Noah groaned, then opened his eyes to squint up as the sailors surrounded him. “Fuck, they were heavy. Going to feel that later. My head is going to be pounding for a week, shit.”

“What - where are they? What happened?” Everyone was yelling or looking around frantically, but Captain Amaruq overrode them all with her booming voice. Hitty dropped to her knees, feeling Noah tremble in her arms even as he gave a rueful laugh, sitting up slowly.

“They are… gone. Don’t worry. Is everyone ok? Did we win?” he asked as he looked around, concern on his face at the cuts and bruises evident on the women, Hyvin holding the deep cut on her forearm and Lisa passed out from the pain of her broken arm and ribs.

Amaruq looked toward the shore, then all the strength went out of her and she almost dropped her hanger in relief as she waved a hand. “Aye, I think so.” She speared Noah with a suspicious look, and he nodded.

“Yeah, I know,” he said quietly to the assembled crew, “I owe you all some explanations. Uh, but first I'll get dressed?”

On the shore, the thaumaturge felt its anger building. The attack had worked flawlessly three times before, netting the small warband plenty of meat and spoils, but this had obviously not been the case on this day. The strange arrival in the morning should have been warning enough that the boat was different, but with the clan already in place there had been no way to call off the attack even if they had wanted to.

The two full-grown warrior caste were on the human boat now, but clearly many kin had died. Then, the sound of the battle changed. Instead of cries of alarm and clashing steel, all it heard was human gibberish. Could the warrior caste have failed? Impossible.

The working to make the rope be like the stone of the old builders was worn off. But if the warriors had failed, it was time to send a blood mist roiling towards the boat. It would ruin the meat, but that did not matter now.

There was no sound at all, but the thaumaturge caught a sudden whiff of river mud, except the smell was from behind-

Shirisha took no chances, her dague punching a hole in the lizardkin mage’s left temple a moment before she brought her right arm around and back, slicing deep into the neck. The thaumaturge dropped, instantly dead, and Shirisha turned toward the Naywet in time to see Amaruq looking back at her. With a casual return wave, Shirisha decided to check the lizardkin for valuables, clearly the fight on the boat was done.

Bellowing hatred, the warrior caste staggered. The man was in its grasp, but then not. The sun was gone, and disorientation hit.

Both dragonkin wavered for a moment as they looked around. Gone was the wooden ship and the blood of battle in the morning sun, now they were in a dusty tomb of stone. Shafts of sunlight lit the large domed chamber, loose rock and stillness all about them. How?

The leader growled, some kind of human magic, clearly. But what? They were unharmed, but had they been taken? It sniffed, a new smell suddenly sharpening its thoughts.

“Oh, and what is this?” A tall, thin figure appeared in the gloom. Dull red eyes shone, and both lizardkin shifted into guard position, and the Horologist walked up noiselessly to stop barely an arms length away.

“It seems my human friend is just full of surprises. I can only assume you met him, the talkative fellow, and that you came out the worse for your experience?” The Ubyr stared up at the pair with a bland politeness, but neither were fooled.

The lead warrior-caste began to growl a question, carefully speaking in the language of the red-eyes “Svaust re wux…” but the Ubyr abruptly shook his head and spoke in the human tongue, “No. Grotesque vermin, the Compact was a stain on our honour and a waste of our time as well. I am done with it, and with your foul kind.”

“Wechsr 'Compact' jahus jikmadator ini,” the warrior hissed, slowly enunciating the words in Low Ubryrian before lapsing into the human Lingua, “Faithless blueskins!”

The Horologist’s sword leapt free from the scabbard with a clear sound like the pure tintinnabulation of a silver bell - a flicker of silver in the dim light, the blade sharp enough and his arm strong enough to slice right through the leader’s throat. The Ubyr spent a tedious five minutes killing the other dragonkin, it was too big and thick skinned for a quick **** so it had to be bled slowly, the Horologist’s blade cutting long, shallow wounds on elbows, wrists and knees until it was finally exsanguinated.

That unpleasantness done, the scholar looked around at the mess he had made in the Observatory. “Hmph. I should have got them outside first, now I’ll have to chop them up into little pieces to lug them out of here before they start to stink. Still, much to discuss with young Mr. Noah next time he is here! A very unique man indeed.”

A ghost of a smile, showing sharp teeth. “I hope I like his answers.”