Read Ch 1 of PLAIN OF THE WORSHIPPED STONE, follow on from Plain of the Fourteen Pillars (Spoiler) Tell me what you think....... CHAPTER ONE Set the scene.... It was a large room, bordered on all sides by stone, and it was only semi-dark. Somehow it felt cool and yet warm at the same time, and dry, the air inside was very dry. Offset from the walls by approximately one foot was a series of sturdy shelving made of timber, their structure fashioned from dovetail and dado joints as well as some crude bracing. Atop each of these shelves was a festival of cheeses, mouldy cheeses, clean-skin cheeses, waxed cheeses, cheeses that go bubble and squeak and bump in the night, it was a veritable dairy smorgasbord; and at the very centre of all this was a daierie, a beautiful servant girl in the throes of kneading dough. She looked up with a smile and a wink of her eye, then gracefully brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, leaving a gentle stain of flour across her cheek, and then once again thrust herself forward with a motion to fashion her loaf.... Unfortunately though, this was only a short lived image. “What are you doing Rod?” Cetra gasped at the little rodent clawing her sleeve. She was running hard, her side step exaggerated with every stride. “I’m in my happy place,” Rod said, acknowledging her concern and immediately gripping onto her jacket harder and making his way back to the correct position atop Cetra’s right shoulder. “There is no time for that!” she scolded him. “There’s always time for the happy place, my dear,” Rod corrected her, a little louder maybe than intended. Cetra huffed and then grimaced, which was somewhat unusual being it rare that she ever huffed and grimaced at all. Of late she had felt burdened by responsibility, and far removed from her once wandering spirit. Certainly being a Plains Trader was the culprit to her new found impatience, and being tied to the likes of a man named Brock was no picnic, indeed he was overly demanding at times. As a result she hadn’t as yet discovered any new plains either; apparently exploration wasn’t to be scheduled into their training until sometime later. So far it had been two years later, or 832 days from that moment when Billy had left them all standing there on the Plain of Three Pillars wondering whether or not it really had been Briar who was catapulted back to England with him. Meanwhile though, they ran.... They ran because they were being pursued.... They were being pursued because they had acquired something on demand.... That demand had come from Brock, and the something was.... “I’m going to knock you into another universe when I get my tentacles on you,” their pursuer ranted loudly in its own slobbery language. Of course, Cetra and Rod were oblivious to its exact interpretation, but they had a fair grasp of the creature’s intentions by the obscene gurgles and the large quantity of foam which recurrently exploded from its disgusting facial cavity. So the question might be raised, how did they manage to get themselves in just such a situation? Well.... When one might consider the act of acquiring, and with a definition unscrupulously connected to Brock, thievery may spring to mind, though Cetra had made it quite clear from the very start that she wasn’t up for that - Stealing is naughty, she had said in those exact words and without any hint of a smile, but Brock was always reassuring, and in this instance the object in question was apparently neither owned nor even subsequently acknowledged by the foaming beast presently gaining upon Rod and Cetra’s heals, and so therefore it supposedly belonged to Brock.... or so he reckoned. Hence why they were where they were.... “Faster lass, faster,” Rod shouted encouragingly, “Have you any idea just how bad that things breath is?” Indeed, its breath would have smelled like a fermented herring, given they had actually known what a fermented herring even smelled like. “Yummy mouse....” the thing slobbered from behind and spat foam onto the back of Cetra’s neck. Luckily for Rod, the bubbly white glob missed him by a whisker, though that didn’t stay him from voicing his disapproval. “I must say my dear Cetra,” he began, and then glanced at it a second time when movement caught his eye, “I believe there may be something alive in that sticky foam on the back of your neck.” Cetra barely acknowledged the implication, and so left Rod feeling obliged to tackle the rising dilemma himself. Whilst foam flew every which way and then some, evaporating on the way, Rod looked on at the emerging creature and scanned it for weakness, with its mass of tentacles and gaping face, it seemed to whimper a little and poke out a single milk tooth before spotting the yummy mouse and lunging for him. Rod braced himself for the impact and took the beast head on. Rubbery tentacles slapped haphazardly across his body and about his head and for a moment he felt overwhelmed, but after catching his breath and regaining his feet within the dip of Cetra’s clavicle, Rod fought back with all his strength and agility. Claws like razors slipped into the creature’s flesh and dropped it to its tentacle knees. It followed as a fierce and bloody battle, with Rod sustaining a sizable cut just below his right ear. The monster screamed and gurgled, spitting blood as it whipped out a rubbery arm in one final struggle to connect with the rodent’s nose. It was a failed attempt, and Rod quickly seized the moment, latching onto its tender underbelly to fling the tangled mess of tentacles through the air and down to the ground. “Tally-ho!” Rod shouted victoriously. All the while Cetra continued to run. As well, the big creature continued to gain ground. On top of this.... “Oh my goodness....” Rod gasped as he witnessed the spawning of a new generation of tentacled, cleft-faced monsters, “I think it’s giving birth...!” Indeed, as the vomited foam dissipated all about them, an army of single-toothed critters screeched their first screech of life and immediately converged upon the wake of Cetra’s stride, all sniffing and gnashing and looking kinda-darn-cute, though fearsome all the same. “I think our situation may have just become a little more awkward,” Rod said into Cetra’s ear, and then, “Could you possibly run a little faster?” Although she did not respond to his request verbally, somehow, miraculously, Cetra gained more speed and was able to further the gap, but it was short lived, and it wasn’t long before she felt the breeze of whipping tentacles across the back of her neck again. “Well,” Rod huffed indignantly, “I wonder if Brock knew he was sending us to certain death?” “I do not believe he would do such a thing,” Cetra puffed now. She was in fact quite the athlete, having proven her worth many times over, the first of which Rod was witness to being the time when she had stayed on the trail of three Humps across the Plain of Fourteen Pillars – that was when Billy had been abducted by the ruthless creatures. Cetra missed Billy. “Maybe so, my dear,” Rod said, “but here we are....” By now Cetra was running out of puff, and the beast was reaching out to entangle them as prey, to ensnare them as its next meal, to regurgitate their remains for its crèche of hungry offspring, but more importantly.... it wanted back what they had stolen. Oddly enough, it was about that same time that Cetra and Rod disappeared, leaving the creature somewhat, and very suddenly, bewildered. So was it pure coincidence? It was of little consequence to the tentacled creature; after all, it had threatened to knock them into an alternate universe. So, although unexpected as it was, it was still a satisfying conclusion, even with the loss of its property. As for Rod and Cetra.... well.... something awfully surprising followed. But before any of this could happen....
Posted on: Sun, 27 Jul 2014 08:47:11 +0000