It's been a long time, with the holidays, but Corey's Axiomatic Anarchy returns! To quote Penance, for it provides a far better introduction to the piece than I ever could:
"Welcome, beast, to my abode. Look upon the system you sought to wreck, and behold its glory. Soon, you shall slake its thirst and fatten its sides. For that," the inevitable stretched out a mechanized hand in a gesture of gratitude. "I am thankful."
Elwist glared at the kobold across from him. He had warned it not to speak to him while he sat and waited for the newcomers to awake. However, the the sniveling sack of scales kept whimpering and quietly persisting, so the sarulaan decided to give the scaly pest something worth whining about. He drew deeply on the vile magic that seethed within him, Elwist's claws reddened with an oily coating, noxious wisps of substance and magic power evanescent in the gloom.
The hulking sarulaan snatched the kobold by the throat, throttling off any screech as his noxious talons dug deeper. The scrawny beast gasped as the contagion swept through it, a putrid heat blistering the runt's small brain. Elwist smiled as the kobold sucked wanly at the air then he threw it to the side an and returned to his chair.
Now I can listen in peace...
He nearly chuckled aloud when he heard the thug of an oltreggan spout nonsense, as if it could really comprehend the conversation. The cultist savored the rejoinders between the more intelligent two, gaining more pleasure from corrupting his enemies then killing them.
Once he had discerned the the trio's method of escape, the sarulaan stood. Elwist bent near the cowering kobold, allowing his venomous drool to spatter against the wounds in its neck. "Watch, pawn...the healer will come to witness your final breath...and to think, you might have warned him of the trap." The toxin seeped in through the torn hide and into the bloodstream of the distraught kobold. The cultist drew a knife, and after drawing some blood from his own wrist, he transformed into a shadowy mist that quickly slithered through the bars.
Solis exited the adjacent cell. The dying kobold scrabbled to sit-up and get his attention, but the act sent a spasm through its body and it sputtered up poisoned blood as it tried to speak. Solis hurried closer but he could do nothing to save the pitiful creature, and the horror within the prisoner's glazed eyes shocked him. All he caught before the beast drowned in its own blood was, "W-ware...Baetor...ware!!"
A crew of four castigators marched quickly to the jail cell. The two in the cell heard their guests long before they saw them. Gritgut eyed them with instinctual hatred, though he could not remember ever seeing them. "What dez guys doin 'ere?"
Landon sent his cellmate a sideward glance, stunned that the brute did not recognize the very creatures who had pummeled him into unconsciousness. The mage rubbed the back of his neck where emphatic pain singed his memory. Lucky it was only the flat of the blade. "I think they are here for you...the time for our execution is nigh."
As if in response, the closest of the squad reached toward the door, a key manifesting out of its iron gauntlet. The construct slung the door back and the remainder raced in, chains of worked iron held between them. They worked swiftly, sliding around the surprised and enraged oltreggan. The bonds quickly seized his limbs, manacles appearing from somewhere. He roared his frustration and strained as he might. "Aargh!" The links groaned and whined, but they held. "RARGHHH!!!"
The castigators fell into defensive stances, apparently waiting for a signal to attack. Landon raced through his spells and found an undesirable option. "Do not make me restrain you myself, remember what we have yet to do! Save your strength!"
The oltreggan frothed and glared at his friend, and then clarity returned. He remembered that freedom and vengeance were soon at hand. Sating his ire on those blissful thoughts, the oltreggan expelled his frustration and breath with a deep huff. "Mez hope you right."
The chains hindered him, but he was able to follow the leading guards with relative speed. Gritgut leered at their backs, thinking how easily he could crush them, if he could get close enough. Den I be free...
"Yes, but you would leave two men to die for your freedom."
Gritgut jerked his head up. Turning left to right, he saw only the four castigators, and beyond them the slightly climbing, rough-hewn tunnels. "Shiny? Youz back!"
"Yes. Be thankful your captor put unthinking constructs around you, else I would've waited still longer. Continue onward, but ware. A shadow spreads over your path; the time arrives for you to stand - "
"Mez ar'ready standin." The oltreggan snickered, a sound akin to a dog growling.
"Nonetheless, keep to the plan, but watch for snares...I shall seek the root of this venom and help where I may...be strong, Gritgut. Be true." The silence that followed was empty and long. The words didn't make sense to the barbarian. "
