Servants of the Primeval Rot - CHAPTER 3

 DORULL STORIES - SERVANTS OF THE PRIMEVAL ROT

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                                          CHAPTER 3

 

 When Vindal opened his eyes, he found it hard to comprehend how was he still alive. Even more so because he was sure he died. The gargantuan chunk that fell on their heads surely killed him. All of them. He remembered the gruesome, brief pain, before everything switched off. But now, that the similar pain has returned, he realized he must’ve been alive.

Vindal groaned, barely managing to lift his head. Anything more was an impossible task. He was forced to stay down. He couldn’t move his arms and legs. And it was perhaps for the best. Once he managed to take a glance upon them, he realized they are utterly deformed, broken and disfigured with many scars.

Vindal looked around, realizing he was in some strange looking, underground space. Parts of the walls were clearly made of soil and rocks, but through the rest, protruded the patches of some slick, metallic plates. Left of him appeared to be a tunnel of some sorts. But he could not see where it was leading, for it veered out of his sight.

And then Vindal realized he was not alone. To the right of him, stood a motionless form. It was wearing torn, leather clothes, which was once alike to his. But the shape he saw looked nothing like Sumen halfling. Its black, rough skin, heavily cracked in places, resembled the bark of the tree. The rot was spreading all the way from the neck, and over the shoulders and arms of this creature. Out of those narrow and seemingly deep cracks, oozed a thick, white liquid, pumping gently in an apparent rhythm of the heartbeat.

The thing was staring at him. Vindal shivered at the sight of those piercing, red eyes. He had to look away. But as he did, he caught a glimpse of some recognizable facial features. Those of his chieftain. Vindal wished to ask for the explanation of this nightmare. But as soon as he opened his mouth, he was gagged with some strange looking pipe, the chieftain plunged inside.

Vindal tried to spit it out. But it was too tight of a fit. And then it got worse. For then the chieftain began pouring that same white liquid that was dripping out of him. There was nothing Vindal could do, but to swallow. And when the chieftain emptied the vessel, half a gallon of that ooze was in his stomach. It was tasteless and without a smell, but still he could not shake the feeling he drank something vile. A few seconds later, he found out what, when he felt rumbling coming from inside.

The gurgles stopped soon enough. But they were replaced by a new sensation. He felt bloated. Not just in his stomach, but in his entire body. The liquid had found its way everywhere. And then it began to change him. Vindal could feel his every organ moving and shifting and reshaping. And every one of them hurt like nothing before. By the time the liquid started reshaping his bones, muscles and skin, Vindal was completely blinded by pain. He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to give in. Soon enough, he fainted.