And the snakekin knew it. It let out a hiss and lunged for him, swords crossed over each other, arms poised to draw them across one another and slice open his throat in an “X.” Keaton threw an arm up, knowing the best he could hope for was to be cut to ribbons rather than immediately killed. He closed his eyes, bracing himself, but the flash of pain never came.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw the snakekin stationary in front of him, its own eyes losing their luster, life fading from them. The creature gurgled and Keaton’s gaze moved downward, finding the end of a spear sticking through his attacker’s throat. It was wrenched backward with a sickening sound, the Emvola on the other end giving him a nod which Keaton returned.
I really need better armor, quicker reflexes… something.
Grabbing for the scimitar, he turned to find the other snakekin locked in combat with Cassia. She had it pinned against the opposite wall, her halberd holding its upper body in place. But that powerful tail curled outward, starting to wrap around her legs.
“Cassia look out!” he yelled, acting before he truly thought about it.
He swung the scimitar down in an arc, putting as much into the action as he could. It sliced through muscle, catching for a moment before Keaton powered through, all the way until he nearly hit the stone floor. The snakekin screeched, the sound rattling through the passageways, shaking more dirt loose. Acidic blood oozed out of the open wound, creating a puddle that ate through the flooring. Keaton had just enough self-awareness to jump backward, avoiding the rapidly expanding pool right as Cassia drove the head of her halberd into the snakekin’s chest and wrenched upward, opening him up from just above the collarbone to just below the jaw.
The tail — which had already started to grow back — ceased immediately, and the snakekin collapsed in the pool of its own caustic blood.
“Filthy things,” Cassia said, spitting down at its corpse before she stepped around it.
“Wait, you’re about to step in the—”
Keaton cringed as she slammed one of her hooves down to crush the snakekin’s skull. “It’s a shame such underhanded creatures are able to make such effective armor.”
Apparently the blood didn’t affect her. At least not by seeping into her hoof, because her foot was now smeared in it and she didn’t seem bothered. Keaton wasn’t going to take his chances. He just stepped away, taking a quick look around to make sure everyone was all right. Orbon was breathing heavily, his club covered in blood, but he seemed fine otherwise. The two Emvola warriors were stoic as always. And Adriana gingerly approached, toeing out with one clawed foot to nudge at a body.
Keaton saw the scales shift and furrowed his brow. “Wait. The scales… they’re armor?”
Once the blood stopped flowing, the steam it let off fading, he crouched down and tried to examine the armor without touching it. From a distance, it absolutely looked like the scales of a diamondback rattlesnake, but up close he saw it was made up of thousands of tiny links. Carefully grasping the armor, he lifted it away from the body to get a sense of what it was.
It would’ve been wrong to call it scale mail, even if it appeared to literally be that. It wasn’t metal at all, though. There was some fiber to it that seemed organic, but strong.
“So this upgrade to my gauntlet,” he began, glancing back at Adriana, “do I have to do anything special to use it?”
She shook her head. “No, it functions just as it does for drawing the essence from organic beings.”
Since this definitely seemed to be an organic material, he wondered if he’d even need the upgrade for it. He probably did need to get the entire piece in his hand, though. Keaton considered the dead snakekin and looked for where the scale shirt fastened. He found only one such area at the side, along with a few holes cut into the armor to allow for the bony growths on the snakekin’s back, the bumps altering the human part of the creature even more.
“Don’t bother,” Cassia told him. “You can learn the details of the armor, but you’ll never be able to make it. Only snakekin can make it. They weave it from their shed skin and bind it with fibers of metal thinner than any I’ve ever seen.”
That was… gross. And fascinating. Keaton wasn’t sure which he leaned toward more.
“Maybe we can find a snakekin who won’t immediately try to kill us, then,” he said, pushing himself back to his full height. “And I’d like to find their forge. They might have some pieces that haven’t been used.”
Returning the scimitar to his waist, Keaton stepped over the body of one of the snakekin, peering down the passage.
“I just wish I knew how to press deeper into this place without being immediately branded a threat.”
“We have entered their dungeon,” Adriana pointed out. “You are a rival dungeon lord who has not proven himself outside of his own walls. For all they know, you are just like all the others.”
“You’ve… got a good point. Let’s just stay vigilant, all right? And try to talk to anyone who doesn’t come up to use ready to gut us.”
“Good luck finding anyone like that here, my lord,” Cassia muttered, cleaning her halberd on one of the snakekin’s armor.
Maybe he should have approached things differently. Just gone in by himself to take a look around, and… what? Sneaking up behind someone and putting a knife to their throat, then asking them to join of their own free will wasn’t… ideal. His minions wouldn’t have let him come in alone, anyway, and there were probably more traps in this place than he’d ever be able to find on his own.
There had to be another way. He couldn’t just… fall into what daemon wanted so easily. He didn’t want this crypt to be painted in acidic green blood. He wanted to ransack the place and take as much as he could for his own.
“Let’s move on,” Keaton said, trying and failing to hide his shift in mood. “Let me scout ahead this time.”
“You are too valuable to—” Cassia began.
“I’ll be fine. I survived most of my life sneaking around places where I could have been caught and killed. You’re all here to cover my back, I’ll be mindful of traps, and if I slip up you can say ‘I told you so.’” He looked back at her with a smirk. “Deal?”
He expected her to be stubborn about it. He could see the flash of that in her eyes. But after a moment, she returned his smirk. “So long as I can gloat if you fail, yes.”
Keaton let out a soft snort of amusement, then passed his torch off to Adriana before continuing down the passage. Sticking to the shadows, listening for the smallest sounds deeper within, he felt more in his element. This was the life he was used to. A lucrative drive into a crypt would have been the stuff of legends for him just a few years ago, and he let himself imagine he’d stumbled upon some ancient tomb. Which… he had, he supposed. He just hadn’t been the first to do so.
Sticking close to the wall, he kept a hand on it to feel for vibrations and pick up sounds that would alert him to someone coming. What sound existed was deeper in the crypt, and all he heard was the occasional scrape of scales moving across the stone far below them. No sound of metal hitting metal, no hiss of swords being dunked into water. He had no idea how smoke from the bellows would even escape, as he hadn’t seen a smokestack or chimney atop the ruins.
Moving through the winding passageways, he passed several alcoves that he was careful to check for traps. One appeared to harbor another passageway of some kind — the stonework was a different color, and there was a piece missing — but he wasn’t eager to get lost down secret passages just yet. He kept going, descending deeper into the crypt, down a set of wide stairs to reach a central chamber supported by four large pillars.