- Sylvester Stallone in Rocky Balboa (2006)
No friend's a friend till [he shall] prove a friend.
- Beaumont and Fletcher, The Faithful Friends (c. 1608), Act III, scene 3, line 50.
It was definitely a cave.
Nicodemus had deduced that before he'd even seen the ground rushing up to meet him. Firstly, rock is not hollow by nature. If that were the case, then every coastline in Britain would have been swallowed up by the sea, and Mount Everest would be full of holes from all the suicidal morons trying to climb it. Secondly, there were already plenty of them in this particular area, which no doubt would make good hiding spots for the suspected murderer/thief he'd been fighting a few moments ago. Although finding the correct one would be-
"OOF!"
That was as far as he got before he hit the sand-covered floor, the impact throwing up a plume of the stuff alongside knocking the breath from his lungs. The fact that Grandius landed blade-first next to him, embedded in the sand as if in a coquettish "tah-dah" pose, served as no comfort to the blond warrior, who was alternating fighting for breath and spitting out the grit that had found its way into his mouth. Oh, yeah, and there was sand in his eyes now - a thing that, as far as Nicodemus was concerned, had occurred for the sole purpose of annoying him even further.
Fortunately for him, sunlight was streaming plentifully through the hole in the ceiling he'd just unwillingly made. With the interior of the hollow cave illuminated, Nicodemus was able to see just enough to wipe the sand off his face and then, with his view now unobstructed, locate Grandius off to his side. Grabbing the blade by the hilt, the young man pushed the blade down into the sand, and almost immediately felt it hit something solid beneath the sand - a perfect brace to get himself back on his feet.
"The path of my life," he grumbled as he slowly and painfully hauled himself upright, "is strewn with cowpats from Chakravartin's own divine herds."
There was a hissing noise, as if in response, that made his blood run cold. And then a scrape of dry scales against rock and sand that finally did the job and made it freeze.
He looked up.
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| Art by Cloister |
"Oh, fuck me!" he screamed, just before the Cave Naga struck.
Once again, however, E Class reflexes saved the day. By the time the gaping jaws of the snake monster would have clamped down upon him, Nicodemus had already leaped aside, pirouetting through the air as the strike missed by almost millimeters. Landing deftly on his feet, the warrior lifted Grandius over his head to strike back at his enemy, but the corner of his eye saw the serpentine muscles tense ominously, and sure enough the head came whipping around in the terrible return-stroke. An almost comical yelp came from the Destined Hero as he hopped upwards, the Naga passing under him, and he heard the creature's savage snarl as the stroke missed.
Then he came down right on top of it, the girth of it's body wedging between his legs and his weight dragging it down into the sand with a terrific thump. Were he an older sort of adventurer, he would have known that now was the time to end the battle before it even started, cutting through the Naga's back to break the spine in one blow. But the writhing coils that lashed all around startled him, and although he brought Grandius down upon the scaly back he failed to cut deep enough. Then teeth like iron files clacked together a mere fraction from the side of his head, and he rolled off of his adversary as it twisted around to face him, torn and angry.
Jumping to his feet, Nicodemus took a step backwards from his opponent, meaning to try and get a clearer view his foe as it reared up for another strike. But then his foot crunched horribly, and his head snapped down to trace the source of the unexpected sound. What his eyes caught in the shadows nearly made him retch with disgust - his boot had gone through the crushed remains of a ribcage, with raw strips of leathery meat still clinging to the bones and the sand stained brown with dried blood. So either he wasn't the first to wander in here, or-
Hey, Nicodemus. You just let your guard down.
And the Naga took advantage of that by darting forward again, this time ramming him full in the chest with a solid headbutt. The Destined Hero shot backwards as if fired from a cannon, slamming into the wall of cave and nearly dropping Grandius in the process before sliding down it to land heavily on his ass, winded. But as he hit the ground, he was surprised momentarily to hear not the crunch of sand beneath his rear and feet, but a cold and sharp clinking of many small, metallic objects sliding along each other.
He didn't need to look down to know what that was.
As the Naga slithered towards him, forked tongue flickering, Nicodemus' brain went into action once more.
Alright, what are we looking at here? Cave Naga, obviously, but what do we know about these things? Let's see... smallest member of the Naga family, although growing to about twenty feet is nothing to sniff at. Intelligent as two octopi lashed together, so not to the point where ecological groups start bleating about registering them as citizens, thank fuck. Like to hide in caves, hence the name, and can also burrow fairly well if needs be. Carnivores, usually prey on large mammals, but will eat anything that comes their way oh shit!
The telltale schwing of a blade being brought to bear rang through the cave, and the Naga's jaws clamped down onto the metal of Grandius. The serpent monster's eyes widened as its attack was blocked, but before it could correct itself Nicodemus was already pushing against it, with the simultaneous results of shoving the creature away from him and cutting into the corners of its mouth. With a snarl of pain, the snake-like monster shifted its lower half around to swing its tail, whip-fashion, at it's adversary - a futile gesture, since the blond swordsman back flipped over it. And then, kicking out with his legs, he pushed off the wall behind him and launched forward like a missile, bringing the hilt of the sword directly into the face of the Naga as he flew past.
A resounding crunch told him he'd broken the beast's nose. His aim was still good, then.
As the monster reared back, shrieking, Nicodemus twisted in the air as his flight took him downwards, ensuring he hit the ground shoulder first. Rolling once through the sand to lessen the impact, the blond sprang to his feet to face his opponent once more, and suddenly realized he was standing in the shaft of sunlight coming down through the hole he'd plummeted through at the start of all this. With the handy illumination from above, he was able to see the interior of the cave in more detail, specifically the piles of gold and trinkets scattered about the walls, accompanied by half-chewed, stale corpses much like the one he'd stepped in a moment ago.
As well as the rocky outcrop jutting from halfway up the wall.
Right, thought Nicodemus' brain, hold off on the nature documentary for a moment. Escape.
A high-pitched snarl made his eyes snap down - the Naga had recovered from its pain and was glaring at him with slitted eyes, blood dripping from the nostrils down the human-like face. With a scrape of scales on sand, the monster reared up and backwards, the sail-like fins on it's head lifting up in threat and long, sinuous body curling up like a spring, before the beast lunged once again-
-and got a handful of sand in it's face.
Taking advantage of the resulting coughing and spluttering, Nicodemus made a quick dash forward before leaping upwards towards the creature. The ledge was too high up for him to reach alone, and the rough surface of the cave walls would have ruined any attempts at running up the sides, so he'd come up with another option. As he passed over the Naga, the swords man planted both feet on the top of it's head, then pushed off as though it were a diving springboard. The net result was not only that the serpent face-planted into the ground, but the young man also propelled himself even higher, landing on the jutting outcrop with ease.
Chakram above, thought Nicodemus' brain, We must look like a complete ponce. Where were we? Ah, the fins - lattices of skin on raised bones of the spine. Attached to specialized dorsal muscles, can be raised and lowered at will. Only males have the biggest ones, that they use for displaying in the mating season, so this is obviously a female - no doubt the bodies and gold are her idea of wedding presents or home decoration. Hunt in darkness, eyes aren't so good in daylight so they stay in their caves.
A cursory look round confirmed his suspicions - the hole was only a meter or so away from him, invitingly beckoning with promises of fresh air. The Naga was still stunned - or so he thought - and he'd leaped longer distances than this throughout his career as the Destined Hero. This would be a cinch - he'd be out in no time, then he could get that bandit back to the village, inform everyone that there was a dangerous snake monster prowling around and then go to bed. No problem.
Nicodemus crouched...
Come on, you can do this...
...and jumped. The opening yawned outward to greet him as he rushed towards it...
A hiss, barely audible, made him look down.
"Oh, balls."
It's funny what one forgets in the heat of battle. In this instance, Nicodemus was only reminded of the Naga's amazing jumping prowess when his serpentine foe shot up like a firework from a butane-powered cannon and bit deep into his shoulder. The warrior yelled as sharp teeth dug into his flesh, and then had to deal with the sensation of his stomach leaping into his throat as he dropped like a stone, the weight of his foe dragging him out of his leap. Next up was the sickening feeling of his brain revolving in his skull as the beast span him around and around in her grasp, winding herself around him like thread on a spool as the both of them tumbled out of the air before hitting the floor of the cave in another impressive cloud of sand.
All of this, of course, immediately seemed pleasant as the thick, muscular coils tightened around the young man's whole body, causing him to gasp as the air was forced out of him.
Of course. They're constrictors.
This was only the second time he was being crushed today. And it was getting old really fast.
-------
"What do you mean, it wasn't you?"
The stranger sighed, the irritation clear in his voice. "I mean it wasn't me. I can't do that."
Denice frowned, confusion clear on her face. "But I saw you do it earlier," she insisted. "You're a Geo - you can control stone, right?"
"Yes, but not all stone!" The man rubbed his temple and sucked in air through his teeth. "Look, I know it all seemed impressive at the time, but it's harder than it looks - takes a lot of energy! And more to the point, did you ever stop to wonder why I didn't make this cliff collapse, if I had the chance? Does it occur to you that maybe I can't control the type of rock we're standing on, and if I could I'd have dropped your friend a lot sooner?"
Denice looked the man up and down, and realization dawned. "So that makes you..."
"Class D. Psammokinesis. I can only control sand and sandstones, which are loose and crumble easily. This," elaborated the stranger, tapping on the cliff side, albeit gingerly, "is... well, I don't know what the hell it is, but I couldn't lift it if I tried. Migrane and nosebleeds? No thanks."
"Aw, you poor thing!" Sympathy radiated off the young girl like heat off a car's engine. "I'm a Class D myself - helium."
The man's eyes widened. "Really? That explains how you moved so fast!"
"Yep!" The girl smiled cheerily for a second, but then dropped as a sudden thought came to her. "Oh, no..."
"What?"
"Nicodemus!" Denice immediately dropped to her hands and knees by the hole her friend had fallen through, peering into the darkness. "I forgot - he might be injured down there! Or something could have gotten him! Or-"
"What's the worry?" The stranger was in the act of pulling himself onto his feet, staring quizzicaly at Denice. "He does kind of deserve it for-"
And then he had to stop, because Denice was in his face. And she was glaring at him.
"Look, mister," she snapped. "I dunno if it occurred to you at some point, but there's a reason he handed your butt to you like that. It's because he's been preordained by fate to defeat evil wherever he finds it, and to eventually find and destroy the Dark Lord Morpheus, who put our creator into eternal slumber thousands of years ago! That man," she ranted, pointing at the yawning chasm where a person had once stood, "is Nicodemus, the Destined Hero! And heroes always, always beat the bad guys!"
There was a very long pause. A breeze, light and chilly, blew over the cliffside and ruffled the clothes of the two.
"...he could have said so before," grumbled the man, shuffling his feet. "Wouldn't have tried to crush him, if I'd known."
Almost as if in response, a sudden yell came from the hole in the rock, loud enough to make both the stranger and Denice jump about a foot in the air. As they turned towards the source of the noise, eyes wide, a further cacophony of noises began to emanate from the gap - a heavy thud, a gasp, and then a loud and piercing hissing noise that cut like a knife through the air. But the identity of the voice was quite plain to the young girl, and the alarm bells that it set off in her head were more than enough for her to spring into action.
As the monster reared back, shrieking, Nicodemus twisted in the air as his flight took him downwards, ensuring he hit the ground shoulder first. Rolling once through the sand to lessen the impact, the blond sprang to his feet to face his opponent once more, and suddenly realized he was standing in the shaft of sunlight coming down through the hole he'd plummeted through at the start of all this. With the handy illumination from above, he was able to see the interior of the cave in more detail, specifically the piles of gold and trinkets scattered about the walls, accompanied by half-chewed, stale corpses much like the one he'd stepped in a moment ago.
As well as the rocky outcrop jutting from halfway up the wall.
Right, thought Nicodemus' brain, hold off on the nature documentary for a moment. Escape.
A high-pitched snarl made his eyes snap down - the Naga had recovered from its pain and was glaring at him with slitted eyes, blood dripping from the nostrils down the human-like face. With a scrape of scales on sand, the monster reared up and backwards, the sail-like fins on it's head lifting up in threat and long, sinuous body curling up like a spring, before the beast lunged once again-
-and got a handful of sand in it's face.
Taking advantage of the resulting coughing and spluttering, Nicodemus made a quick dash forward before leaping upwards towards the creature. The ledge was too high up for him to reach alone, and the rough surface of the cave walls would have ruined any attempts at running up the sides, so he'd come up with another option. As he passed over the Naga, the swords man planted both feet on the top of it's head, then pushed off as though it were a diving springboard. The net result was not only that the serpent face-planted into the ground, but the young man also propelled himself even higher, landing on the jutting outcrop with ease.
Chakram above, thought Nicodemus' brain, We must look like a complete ponce. Where were we? Ah, the fins - lattices of skin on raised bones of the spine. Attached to specialized dorsal muscles, can be raised and lowered at will. Only males have the biggest ones, that they use for displaying in the mating season, so this is obviously a female - no doubt the bodies and gold are her idea of wedding presents or home decoration. Hunt in darkness, eyes aren't so good in daylight so they stay in their caves.
A cursory look round confirmed his suspicions - the hole was only a meter or so away from him, invitingly beckoning with promises of fresh air. The Naga was still stunned - or so he thought - and he'd leaped longer distances than this throughout his career as the Destined Hero. This would be a cinch - he'd be out in no time, then he could get that bandit back to the village, inform everyone that there was a dangerous snake monster prowling around and then go to bed. No problem.
Nicodemus crouched...
Come on, you can do this...
...and jumped. The opening yawned outward to greet him as he rushed towards it...
A hiss, barely audible, made him look down.
"Oh, balls."
It's funny what one forgets in the heat of battle. In this instance, Nicodemus was only reminded of the Naga's amazing jumping prowess when his serpentine foe shot up like a firework from a butane-powered cannon and bit deep into his shoulder. The warrior yelled as sharp teeth dug into his flesh, and then had to deal with the sensation of his stomach leaping into his throat as he dropped like a stone, the weight of his foe dragging him out of his leap. Next up was the sickening feeling of his brain revolving in his skull as the beast span him around and around in her grasp, winding herself around him like thread on a spool as the both of them tumbled out of the air before hitting the floor of the cave in another impressive cloud of sand.
All of this, of course, immediately seemed pleasant as the thick, muscular coils tightened around the young man's whole body, causing him to gasp as the air was forced out of him.
Of course. They're constrictors.
This was only the second time he was being crushed today. And it was getting old really fast.
-------
"What do you mean, it wasn't you?"
The stranger sighed, the irritation clear in his voice. "I mean it wasn't me. I can't do that."
Denice frowned, confusion clear on her face. "But I saw you do it earlier," she insisted. "You're a Geo - you can control stone, right?"
"Yes, but not all stone!" The man rubbed his temple and sucked in air through his teeth. "Look, I know it all seemed impressive at the time, but it's harder than it looks - takes a lot of energy! And more to the point, did you ever stop to wonder why I didn't make this cliff collapse, if I had the chance? Does it occur to you that maybe I can't control the type of rock we're standing on, and if I could I'd have dropped your friend a lot sooner?"
Denice looked the man up and down, and realization dawned. "So that makes you..."
"Class D. Psammokinesis. I can only control sand and sandstones, which are loose and crumble easily. This," elaborated the stranger, tapping on the cliff side, albeit gingerly, "is... well, I don't know what the hell it is, but I couldn't lift it if I tried. Migrane and nosebleeds? No thanks."
"Aw, you poor thing!" Sympathy radiated off the young girl like heat off a car's engine. "I'm a Class D myself - helium."
The man's eyes widened. "Really? That explains how you moved so fast!"
"Yep!" The girl smiled cheerily for a second, but then dropped as a sudden thought came to her. "Oh, no..."
"What?"
"Nicodemus!" Denice immediately dropped to her hands and knees by the hole her friend had fallen through, peering into the darkness. "I forgot - he might be injured down there! Or something could have gotten him! Or-"
"What's the worry?" The stranger was in the act of pulling himself onto his feet, staring quizzicaly at Denice. "He does kind of deserve it for-"
And then he had to stop, because Denice was in his face. And she was glaring at him.
"Look, mister," she snapped. "I dunno if it occurred to you at some point, but there's a reason he handed your butt to you like that. It's because he's been preordained by fate to defeat evil wherever he finds it, and to eventually find and destroy the Dark Lord Morpheus, who put our creator into eternal slumber thousands of years ago! That man," she ranted, pointing at the yawning chasm where a person had once stood, "is Nicodemus, the Destined Hero! And heroes always, always beat the bad guys!"
There was a very long pause. A breeze, light and chilly, blew over the cliffside and ruffled the clothes of the two.
"...he could have said so before," grumbled the man, shuffling his feet. "Wouldn't have tried to crush him, if I'd known."
Almost as if in response, a sudden yell came from the hole in the rock, loud enough to make both the stranger and Denice jump about a foot in the air. As they turned towards the source of the noise, eyes wide, a further cacophony of noises began to emanate from the gap - a heavy thud, a gasp, and then a loud and piercing hissing noise that cut like a knife through the air. But the identity of the voice was quite plain to the young girl, and the alarm bells that it set off in her head were more than enough for her to spring into action.
"Quick!" she cried, grabbing by the stranger by the arm and dragging him towards the chasm. "He's in trouble, we gotta help!"
"Woah, woah, woah!" The man disengaged himself and took a step backwards, nervously eying the gap. "Look, miss..."
"Denice," was the reply.
"Denice. Look, I'm sorry," the stranger went on, "but I'm not sure what I can do to help. My powers won't work here, and I'd rather not get my fists bitten off by some giant freaky monster. And besides," he added, not without a tinge of bitterness, "your buddy just shot me off a cliff, so I'm not in the best condition to do any actual fighting."
Denice paused, eyebrows knitting together in thought. "Well, mister..."
"John. John Mycroft. But my folks call me Landslide."
Denice nodded, and peered down the hole briefly. John could have sworn he saw her lips move under her breath, as if she were talking to herself.
Then she turned to John, one eyebrow quirked.
"Is there any sand... down there?"
-------
"Ungh! Let go! S-stupid- Ack!"
It was hard for Nicodemus to not look at his current situation and wonder where his life had gone wrong. Being bound from shoulders to ankles in coils and squeezed like a tin can in a trash compactor was not something he'd ever foreseen being a part of his future - then again, he preferred his futures to have a large mansion and enough paper money to swim in at some point. Some god, somewhere in the cosmos, must have played a horrible joke of cosmic proportions in order to get him into a situation like this. Why, of all the-?
Another squeeze made him cough as his innards were compressed even further, cutting of his mental rant. It was getting harder to breathe now, the iron grip around his body gradually tightening with every second and cutting off his air supply as they did. As much as he struggled against the scaly cocoon he was wrapped up in, he simply couldn't move a muscle, and his face was slowly turning pale as his mouth hung open, begging for air that was barely coming. Through blurring vision, he watched as the Naga hovered into view over him, a triumphant and sadistic smirk on her bloodstained face, forked tongue licking her teeth in anticipation of the meal to come.
"Y-you... bitch..." Nicodemus growled out, the words like sandpaper in his throat. Summoning a burst of effort from somewhere, he made another effort to escape the coils, straining and twisting in an effort to free himself. All this earned was a hissing chuckle from his captor at his futile efforts, before the Naga contracted her muscles again, forcing a yell from the blond swordsman as he felt his ribcage bend horribly under the surge of pressure. The young man immediately ceased his struggles against his muscular prison - there was nothing he could do with his arms pinned.
Wait... arms, plural? Or was that arm, singular? Nicodemus shifted a little, and realization hit him like a sledgehammer made of Christmas trees.
His sword arm was free.
The next thing the Naga knew, the hilt of a sword had smacked into the side of her head with an echoing crack.
"YES!" howled the Destined Hero as he felt the coils loosen. "Take that, you limbless fuck!" So overjoyed was Nicodemus at seemingly finding a solution to his near-death experience that, for the moment, he forgot about his need for air. With a cry of triumph, he lifted his free arm, still bearing Grandius, and brought the weapon flat-first onto the Naga's skull with another tremendous clang. The beast hissed with pain and annoyance, her grip loosening some more, and hope flared in the swordsman's mind as he began to raise his sword once more. Another strike like that, and he'd be free!
The blade came down...
Nicodemus had never listened to his instructors. Well, he had, but there was a lot that he'd tuned out on the grounds of being useless bullshit that he'd probably never use. One of those few things that he hadn't thrown into his mental junk drawer was to pay attention to his surroundings at all times - advice that, due to either willful stubbornness or forgetfulness, he let slip his mind more often than wet soap in the bathtub. Of course in this case, being deprived of oxygen for a good two minutes didn't help, but even then Nicodemus was always in the habit of forgetting a crucial detail at the worst possible moments.
"Woah, woah, woah!" The man disengaged himself and took a step backwards, nervously eying the gap. "Look, miss..."
"Denice," was the reply.
"Denice. Look, I'm sorry," the stranger went on, "but I'm not sure what I can do to help. My powers won't work here, and I'd rather not get my fists bitten off by some giant freaky monster. And besides," he added, not without a tinge of bitterness, "your buddy just shot me off a cliff, so I'm not in the best condition to do any actual fighting."
Denice paused, eyebrows knitting together in thought. "Well, mister..."
"John. John Mycroft. But my folks call me Landslide."
Denice nodded, and peered down the hole briefly. John could have sworn he saw her lips move under her breath, as if she were talking to herself.
Then she turned to John, one eyebrow quirked.
"Is there any sand... down there?"
-------
"Ungh! Let go! S-stupid- Ack!"
It was hard for Nicodemus to not look at his current situation and wonder where his life had gone wrong. Being bound from shoulders to ankles in coils and squeezed like a tin can in a trash compactor was not something he'd ever foreseen being a part of his future - then again, he preferred his futures to have a large mansion and enough paper money to swim in at some point. Some god, somewhere in the cosmos, must have played a horrible joke of cosmic proportions in order to get him into a situation like this. Why, of all the-?
Another squeeze made him cough as his innards were compressed even further, cutting of his mental rant. It was getting harder to breathe now, the iron grip around his body gradually tightening with every second and cutting off his air supply as they did. As much as he struggled against the scaly cocoon he was wrapped up in, he simply couldn't move a muscle, and his face was slowly turning pale as his mouth hung open, begging for air that was barely coming. Through blurring vision, he watched as the Naga hovered into view over him, a triumphant and sadistic smirk on her bloodstained face, forked tongue licking her teeth in anticipation of the meal to come.
"Y-you... bitch..." Nicodemus growled out, the words like sandpaper in his throat. Summoning a burst of effort from somewhere, he made another effort to escape the coils, straining and twisting in an effort to free himself. All this earned was a hissing chuckle from his captor at his futile efforts, before the Naga contracted her muscles again, forcing a yell from the blond swordsman as he felt his ribcage bend horribly under the surge of pressure. The young man immediately ceased his struggles against his muscular prison - there was nothing he could do with his arms pinned.
Wait... arms, plural? Or was that arm, singular? Nicodemus shifted a little, and realization hit him like a sledgehammer made of Christmas trees.
His sword arm was free.
The next thing the Naga knew, the hilt of a sword had smacked into the side of her head with an echoing crack.
"YES!" howled the Destined Hero as he felt the coils loosen. "Take that, you limbless fuck!" So overjoyed was Nicodemus at seemingly finding a solution to his near-death experience that, for the moment, he forgot about his need for air. With a cry of triumph, he lifted his free arm, still bearing Grandius, and brought the weapon flat-first onto the Naga's skull with another tremendous clang. The beast hissed with pain and annoyance, her grip loosening some more, and hope flared in the swordsman's mind as he began to raise his sword once more. Another strike like that, and he'd be free!
The blade came down...
Nicodemus had never listened to his instructors. Well, he had, but there was a lot that he'd tuned out on the grounds of being useless bullshit that he'd probably never use. One of those few things that he hadn't thrown into his mental junk drawer was to pay attention to his surroundings at all times - advice that, due to either willful stubbornness or forgetfulness, he let slip his mind more often than wet soap in the bathtub. Of course in this case, being deprived of oxygen for a good two minutes didn't help, but even then Nicodemus was always in the habit of forgetting a crucial detail at the worst possible moments.
And he paid the price when the Naga's tail, which had been lying unattended a little way off, lashed upwards like a whip and struck Grandius from his hand. As the blade spiraled out of his reach, the coils shifted with blinding speed, briefly opening upwards before clamping down once again like a fist of an angry giant, trapping Nicodemus' free arm along with the rest of him. Now he was well and truly caught, and with his sword gone there was no way he was breaking out of the squeezing grip, that was now so tight it was causing popping noises to come from his spine and ribcage.
"...not...fair..." he croaked out, now turning puce from the lack of air. The only response he got was an evil leer from the Naga, her tongue flickering just in front of his nose as she squeezed him even further, electing another gasp from her captive. No way to breathe, no way to fight, no way to escape... She had him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before the asphyxiation won out. Of all the ways the blonde warrior imagined going out, death by snake was not one he'd have expected. Or even preferred, for that matter.
But then nobody ever expects to die quite so soon, do they?
But then nobody ever expects to die quite so soon, do they?
Hey, we all gotta go sometime...
With spots in his vision and a ringing in his ears, Nicodemus closed his eyes and waited.
"YAAAAAARGH!"
Firstly, a human shape came out of nowhere and practically tacked the Naga, grabbing it by the neck and yanking it out of Nicodemus' vision. There was a crashing bang and a screech from somewhere else, and the coils around the warrior sprang open with such force that he was fairly catapulted out of them, spiraling. Then a gust of what he assumed was wind shot by, and somebody caught him in midair and steered him downwards through the air, setting him on his feet on the sand.
Blinking in confusion, he looked behind him.
"Denice?" was as far as he got before he felt the hilt of Grandius being pushed into his hands.
"You might need this," was the reply, and Denice promptly indicated the scene happening just a few feet away. Wherever by sheer luck or strength alone, the man known as Landslide had managed to get a chokehold on the Naga with both arms, pulling the head back and upwards. At the same time, the sand around him was springing into life, leaping upwards to clamp in bands over the serpent's writing body like handcuffs. The monster hissed and spat, struggling to free herself, but the Geokinetic's grip was almost as tenacious as her coils around Nicodemus had been.
For a brief moment, the warrior was bewildered as to why the guy who'd tried to powderise him was now trying to help him.
Less talk, more fight! shouted his brain, overriding that confusion.
And with that, forcing his aching limbs into action once more, Nicodemus leaped backwards, somersaulting once before planting his feet against the rocky wall of the cave. The Naga's scales were tough - he'd learned that first-hand a few minutes ago - and he'd calculated that he'd require a lot of force in order to cut through them. And what better force was there in the universe than Gravity, that most harsh of mistresses in the world of natural forces? The blond knew this better than anyone else - he'd been on the receiving end of it more than a few times in his career.
In the space of nanoseconds, he checked to make sure his feet were at the right angle.
Then he jumped.
It was fortunate for Landslide that the Naga finally threw him off, sending him sailing over her head. Firstly, it got him out of the way as Nicodemus came down on the attack, ensuring he was safe. Secondly, it put the monster's neck into convenient range for Grandius to hit as it curved downwards, cleaving through the scales along with the rest of the snake monster with the aid of gravity and a good swinging arm. Blood fountained, splattering over everything in range like an angry child throwing poster paint everywhere, and the disembodied head dropped to the floor with a thump, the jaws still parted in a snarl of anger.
The body writhed, jerked, thrashed at the sand... and lay still.
There was a pregant pause, as if the universe itself were letting it's breath out. And then, ignoring the splats of red on his face and clothes, Nicodemus stood up straight, lifting the blood-stained Grandius over his head and sliding it into the sheath on his back. As it clicked into place, he turned over to Denise, who was watching him with wide eyes and a small smile, and John, who was picking himself up and dusting himself down from his unfortunate flight.
Right, first thing's first. Grill the guy who pulled a fast one on us earlier.
"Okay, you-" he began, and then threw up.
Immediately, Denise was by his side, hands on his shoulders as the horrific consequences of his earlier constriction finally caught up with him. His innards felt like roadkill, his bones felt even worse than that, and his vision was sliding in and out of focus as it struggled to compensate for the sudden intake in air. Every part of the Destined Hero's body, to an organ and nerve ending, was waking up to remind him that yes, they were around, and no, they weren't happy with him at all. Were you fighting goddamn minotaurs again, you stupid fuck, they were screaming all at once.
I wish, muttered his brain as he retched on hands and knees.
"Nicodemus," he heard Denise say once he'd finally stopped, "this is John. He's a Class D Psammokinetic. And he's very sorry for what he did earlier. Right, John?" she added, casting a look over at the man that the gasping warrior didn't need to see to know what it was.
"Right," came John's voice, apologetic.
"Good!" Now Denise was cheery again as she straightened up and looked about the cave. "Now, what's to be done about all this gold and stuff?"
"Take it back to the village, of course," suggested Nicodemus as he pulled himself upright. "And take the Naga's head back as well - the people need to know who really was stealing all their valuables and eating their friends."
"But look at all this!" Denise swept her arms around the cave, indicating the piles of gold and assorted treasures. There was a substantial lot of it - from what she and Nicodemus had been told, the disappearances and thefts had been going on for at least two or three months, and this had given ample time for the stolen goods to build up. Just at a glance, the warrior knew what his companion meant - it would take ages for the both of them to get it out of the cave and back to the village without help.
There was a pause as they mulled this problem over in their heads. Then a cough was heard, and the two turned towards Landslide, who had developed an awkward air about him.
"I've got a jeep back at my place," he managed, at last. "I found it in the middle of the road once, and nobody seemed to want it. I could go fetch it, and we could put all the gold in it and take it back that way. It'd be quicker than carrying it bit by bit, anyway."
"Just to make it clear," he hissed, crossing the distance between them and jabbing a finger into John's chest. "I'm not doing this because I suddenly like you for helping me - I'm still sore over that fast one, by the way. I'm doing this because I'm prepared to tolerate you for as long as it takes to get this bullshit over with. And on the very instant I pass beyond the town gates tomorrow, I will either completely forget about you or file the memory of you under "asshole", like I do with the majority of the world's population. Got it?"
Denise opened her mouth-
"Eh, I'll live."
-and closed it again. That was fast.
"Good." Nicodemus turned away from John and towards the hole in the celing. "Now, let's get out of here before I become purblind."
-------
Needless to say, when the three got back to the village with the jeep of gold and the Naga's head, there was something of an uproar. John Mycroft, aka Landslide, was welcomed back like he'd never left, and all the stolen treasure was handed out equally amongst everyone. The mayor made a speech that dragged on for too long, and then a small parade was held with bunting and a brass band, in celebration of the Destined Hero's great and selfless deed, before terminating at a slap-up meal in the tavern. And all through it Nicodemus rolled his eye at the sickening tweeness of it all, stopping short of throwing up again had he anything left in his stomach.
He did brighten up a bit, though, when somebody gave him some cake.
That made a change.
TO BE CONTINUED
IN 2015
(Sorry :( )
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