The horrible wounds inflicted on the dead Scalemin to its side were now distorted beyond recognition; several days’ worth of animal and insect feedings had all but hidden the clean cuts that had severed the body. The Nombril was not fooled though, it knew that the Khazini possessed the strength for such blows, and there was no weapon present. It knew that it must be getting closer to its goal. The Khazin, still nearly whole in spite of the scavengers of The Deep, lay in the dried pool of blood, its still-open eyes clouded with death, and its death’s head grin gaping. The Nombril’s voice croaked out of its long-unused mouth experimentally, saying:
“I am…The Nombril…you…will answer…my…questions.” With that, he released the spell that he had carried with him for more than two hundred years, and a foul sputtering intake of breath made a hissing sound as the dead flesh took in air to respond to the questions.
Gulan the corpse spoke. His voice too was weak and raspy, though not exactly from disuse, “Yes…God?”
Cassimi mourned the loss of his student briefly. The Deep was a harsh teacher, though, and they had both been warned. Class was over for the day, so Cassimi and his remaining student-a young female thief turned nature-lover named Jasixa-headed for the surface, the horrible greataxe safely wrapped and tucked into Cassimi’s belt.
Several days later, Cassimi and Jasixa, now on the surface, were wandering through a swamp in the foothills near the cavern entrance they had come from. They were foraging on the surface, not something they commonly did, but Cassimi knew there were valuable things to learn from surface-dwelling creatures and plants, just as there was from The Deep. They had been wandering for several days, never far from the entrance, thanks to the innate sense of direction that the experienced Cassimi possessed. They had found a multitude of edible plants and insects to feed on, and Jasixa was extremely exited about the feeling of being in the open, with no stone overhead.
Cassimi had known for some time that they were being watched, but whatever was spying on them was either very elusive, or simply in his imagination. Not being one to believe in dismissing his perception, he assumed the former, and stayed very alert, even while Jasixa slept, he did not. The sensations were worse during the night, so Cassimi dozed lightly during the hottest parts of the day while Jasixa watched over him. She was aware that something was bothering him, but her eyes were not trained as his to see every movement of the fens, and so she was largely unaware of the threat. Cassimi’s warnings to her to stay close and to be alert when he slept seemed to her more like a leash than a necessity. Her heart was well disciplined, though, by the recent loss of her partner and friend, Gissi. His death at the hands of the Khazin deserter kept her mindful of the dangers of the world. Cassimi had laid the murderous greataxe at his side. Jasixa decided to herself that no harm could come from a simple inspection of the weapon. It looked quite valuable to her; it was clearly not of Dwarven make, at least to her eyes. She had some experience with valuing items quickly, and had initially assessed the value of the axe to be well over anything she had ever seen before. She quietly stole over to Cassimi’s sleeping form, and reached for the weapon. The buzzing flies of the swamp were the only sounds to be heard, but her heart beat in her chest so loudly that she was sure that Cassimi could hear it.
Her heartbeat was audible, but not to Cassimi. His sleep had passed from a natural drowse into a magic-bolstered heavy slumber. The Nombril had crept through the muck and the mud of the swamp ever so slowly. It did not need to breath, eat, or sleep, and its quiet approach had taken days to engineer, but finally it was within reach of the source of its desire.
It watched the cagey movements of the younger Scalemin, her tail swishing in the air to balance her as she reached down to grasp the haft of the greataxe. She was so close to The Nombril that it could make out the fine rise and fall of her narrow chest, and the rush of blood that came with the adrenalin pumping through her small form was visible in the arteries close to the surface of her scaled hide on her neck. She never saw the chipped and flaked form of The Nombril, caked as it was with muck and submerged in the water just inches from her hand. Her hand closed around the weapon’s finely polished handle just as the great arm of The Nombril edged out of the water and grasped her arm firmly. She cried out, but to no avail. Cassimi slept as soundly as a young hatchling. Jasixa quickly brought her kukri to bear on the arm that was crushing all sensation out of hers, but the blade bounced harmlessly off of the creature’s arm. The impenetrable stone arm inexorably crushed first the muscles and then the bones of her arm, rendering it useless. The greataxe dropped soundlessly into the mud at The Nombril’s feet, as it rose out of the muck. Still clutching the useless arm in one hand, it reached for her slender neck with the other. She struggled uselessly, trying over and over to stab the obsidian horror with her kukri and screaming Scalemin obscenities. Finally The Nombril closed a stony fist around her throat, forever silencing her shrill cries.
